So here I am. I’ve finally done it. I set up my own blog. Something I’d been threatening to do for years but never quite followed through—like joining a gym, learning French, or cleaning out that one terrifying kitchen drawer.
Right now, I’m sitting in a hotel room in that weird time between winter and spring, staring out at a barren Lapland landscape. The snow has melted, the grass is doing its best impression of boiled asparagus, and the trees are basically naked skeletons, just standing there, judging me. In between bouts of staring into nothingness, I keep asking myself: how the hell did I end up here?
I don’t know if anyone will ever read this, I am not even looking at the screen whilst I type this in case I over-concentrate on grammatical mistakes and forget everything I want to say. Do people even read blogs anymore? I have no idea, but I want to write anyway. I question if I will be any good at this as well…
I love my mind, my creativity. I consider myself an innovator. I have a lot of ideas, some good, some terribly bad. Though my brain runs at a million miles an hour sometimes. This is a good thing most of the time, but sometimes I get brain ache from having so many ideas in a short amount of time. I read somewhere once that writers can get “too many ideas” syndrome and I often wonder if this is what I have; when the ideas just keep coming, wave after wave, and my brain is frantically trying to file them away before they get forgotten.
Or maybe I am just a divergent thinker? I can often see a solution before I have finished the plan. It’s like I have a “sixth sense” to know what the end goal needs to be, and figuring out the route to get there, comes afterwards. Sounds mystical, right? Like some creative oracle? Yeah… it’s probably just common sense, but let’s not ruin the magic. Either way, any hiccups along the way I just see as a redirection. Never an obstacle!
I learned about Thomas Edison when I was younger and how he had over 1000 unsuccessful attempts at making a light bulb. But he was quoted as saying “I will not say I failed 1000 times, I will say that I successfully found 1000 ways NOT to make a light bulb”. This stuck with me my whole life. He knew the electric light bulb was the solution, or the ‘end goal’ if you like, but it was the journey to that goal that was the puzzle. I am categorically not comparing myself to such a brilliant inventor, I am merely saying I resonate with that mentality.
I was never quite the same as my peers, I was always “the quirky one”. The way I thought, the things I liked. I would always be the one to speak up in the room, say ‘what I thought’ (as tactfully as possible of course), put things right when there’s been an injustice, call people out on their bull. I have always tended to rub people up the wrong way as well, but I never meant to, I don’t mean to, ever. I guess I am what you might call “strong minded”. I am a very kind and honest person (though I think it’s the honesty that people haven’t liked). It’s like I have this impulse to speak when it’s probably better not to. Don’t get me wrong either, I’m certainly no angel. At times I have had strong words with myself when I’ve messed up!
But I do think it’s because of this impulsive nature and lack of fear to speak my mind that I find it easier to come up with ideas, be creative, be wonderfully weird. For me, it’s rare for an idea to seem too crazy, or outlandish (as long as it’s legal, and nobody is getting hurt in the process!). I mean, life is short, right? I visualise ideas (or problems) like a puzzle in my mind, moving pieces around trying to figure out which piece fits. In my mind, everything is possible. Life is just one big puzzle.
It took me a long time to realise that this quirky side to me, that this “too many ideas” thing was a good “thing” and not a burden like I thought for most of my younger years. Growing up I struggled to focus because my head felt as though it would explode with my mind racing at the speed of light. But I realised as I got older and a (little) bit wiser, I was just on the wrong path and was not utilising this to its potential. I probably would have been best suited working in a creative job, or innovation, or design of some sort really. But younger me didn’t know these roles even existed at the time, so I can’t regret the ‘what ifs’… C’est la vie!
This is why I have now turned to writing. I don’t want this side of me to ever fizzle out. I want to share my quirky thoughts, my colourful ideas, and my nonsense stories. To look at me now I am, well, perfectly ordinary. But that doesn’t mean my mind is. It saddens me to have to admit but I toned down my external “quirkiness” to be taken more seriously at work some years ago. It worked in the professional sense, but only fuelled the fire to be more creative through other means. Writing has become my outlet, my sanctuary, my carte blanche to be as wonderfully weird as I like. No big words, no dry academia, just soul-food words, nonsense musings, and maybe the occasional rant about anaemic Lapland grass.
So, this is it: my writing journey. Whether it becomes a masterpiece or a glorified diary, I’m here, typing away, inviting you into my puzzle-piece brain.
Welcome aboard. Please keep your arms and legs inside the ride at all times.
Just Wanna Write 
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