Powerful/Powerless
Whenever I sit down to write something, I sometimes strongly wonder, whether I am the powerful or the powerless. Powerful maybe because I have the ability to control the narrative I am going to write. I have the power to weave words into meanings and create worlds out of nothing. I become a creator. Powerless too, perhaps. Not every time that I sit down to write do I do so with a particular idea or notion of what exactly I want to write about. I am exposed to almost hundreds and thousands of things every day and I still don’t know what I want to write about, when I can basically write about anything. That’s one of the worst forms of being powerless, when you no longer feel that you have the capacity to be a creator of even your own world. When you no longer are moved or affected enough by anything you witness. When you just feel blank.
Most of the times I hesitate opening my diary or laptop to write stuff when I don’t have a crystal clear idea. Everyone likes to feel powerful, but the feeling of being powerless is something which we all want to avoid. There are times when I feel very disturbed, a lot of turbulence stirring within me. I want to express it, but I fail to find a way of doing so. Under such conditions, the last thing I would like to feel is powerless. I oscillate between this urge of writing and this fear of writing. So I take to the next best thing I could do in such a situation: I pick up a book and I begin to read.
However, as I flip through the pages and immerse myself into their worlds, I do reach a point where I start to think about the mental state of the writers while they were creating these worlds. Did they face the same dilemmas as me? If not, then was there something else bothering them? How did they overcome all of that? What if they couldn’t have done so, and I would have missed out on this world? What if none of the writers of this world could have overcome their mental dilemmas, like me? Perhaps I would have been left with nothing to escape to.
I am sure there must be a lot of dynamics to the world of writing other than just being powerful or powerless. There must be a lot of other things to overcome or maybe a lot less. I can’t lay a straight line about this. However, I know this, that all these people have fought their battles: more so for being artists. Had they fallen to the fear of writing as often as I do perhaps, I don’t think I would have been able to feel the pain with which they had composed their works. So I gather myself, and I try to have a talk with me. I try to caress myself, hold myself closer and try to give myself some support. It’s okay to be powerless. We all are, in some way or the other. Acknowledging it and owning it will only make us more comfortable with its existence.
As a matter of fact, I opened my laptop and started writing this with a sheer fear of delving into powerlessness. I don’t feel powerful yet, but I am sure I will get there soon.
