The Beginning
As I write these words, the letters blur before me, refusing to come into focus. It’s as if they’re playing a game of hide-and-seek, leaving me to rely on the familiar touch of the keyboard beneath my fingertips, hoping the “spell checker” might somehow fix the jumble of words I’ve typed. But perhaps I’m asking too much of a tool meant for typos, not for untangling the swirling thoughts that mirror the foggy maze within my head.
However, I continue with this endeavour simply titled “The Beginning.” For reasons I can’t quite grasp, the word “Beginning” seems to carry weight, as if it insists on being capitalized, urging me to pause and wonder: Are all beginnings grand, monumental events? Almost instantly, a quiet reflection surfaces: I don’t think so. More often, beginnings are quiet murmurs, easily drowned out by the noise of life.
“In principio erat Verbum… John, 1, 1”
The Nature of Beginnings
This thought leads me further into my own questions: are beginnings really as monumental as we make them out to be, or are they more subtle, almost invisible? That’s when I find myself thinking about existentialism – a philosophy that delves into the freedom and responsibility we have in shaping our lives. Thinkers like Jean-Paul Sartre suggest that beginnings aren’t just random moments; they are acts of profound choice, moments of authenticity.
It’s as if every beginning offers us a blank canvas, inviting us to paint our own meaning and purpose onto it. Perhaps, then, the true monumentality of a beginning doesn’t lie in its appearance but in the quiet gravity of the choices we make – each one a moment of authenticity, shaping the course of our lives.
Moments of Choice
Anyhow, despite the allure of this concept, I must confess that, in reality, new beginnings often resemble a foggy glass – obscuring our path as we strive to clarify our direction. It’s a feeling many of us know well – those moments when the horizon seems blurred, and we’re left wondering how to find our way through the haze.
I found myself in one of these uncertain moments years ago, over morning coffee with a friend. We were deliberating whether I should accept a new job offer or stay in my current position. At the time, my life was already in a turbulent phase, and I couldn’t tell if my impulse for change was driven by desperation or a genuine opportunity. That’s when my friend shared an insight that has lingered with me ever since: decisions are made in the blink of an eye, and what follows is merely justification or an exit strategy.
An Unexpected Pause
In moments like these, decisions can feel like the starting line of a race, each choice opening a new path filled with possibilities. Yet, the clarity of a straightforward decision often eludes us, clouded by doubt and fear. Every beginning is steeped in uncertainty, reminding us that it’s not just about choosing a direction; it’s about embracing the unknown and the courage it takes to leap into a new chapter.
It’s funny how those words my friend said resonated with me at that moment, aligning with a logic that seemed to ring true. Almost as if they were calling me to act. Yet now, bound to my bed, they spark even deeper contemplation: do beginnings often emerge from silent, unseen deliberations, quietly forged in the depths of our subconscious?
Days ago, I received a diagnosis of vestibular neuritis, a condition that has thrown me off balance both physically and metaphorically. Picture my inner compass taking an extended holiday, leaving me dizzy and disoriented, caught in a relentless spin that seems to stretch on endlessly. It’s curious how this diagnosis has sparked reflections on the nature of beginnings in my life.
A Ritual of Resilience
I’ve had plenty of time to sit with these thoughts – sometimes too much time, it seems. The doctors, refreshingly honest, told me they don’t quite know how one catches this condition, and to add to the mystery, there’s no magical cure either. So, here I am, stuck in a strange sort of limbo, waiting for my head to stop spinning – literally.
Naturally, this has thrown all my life’s plans into disarray. I’m currently on sick leave, with my career path on hold – not by choice. Ironically, I ended up taking that new job I was once so uncertain about, the one my friend and I mulled over during our coffee chats. And now, here I am, taking an unplanned break from it all. After two years of slowly settling into what I believed was a bold career move, I thought I had finally found my footing – only to have the ground shift beneath me in ways I never anticipated. Isn’t it strange how new beginnings can sometimes feel like unexpected endings?
In the midst of these days, my routine has undergone a subtle shift. Now, it revolves around a simple but steadfast commitment – a 4-step skincare regimen, performed diligently twice daily. This ritual, if I can call it that, has become the only physical task I’m currently capable of managing. Yet, truth be told, my skin has never looked better.
Writing Through the Fog
While family and friends drop by to ensure I’m fed, most of my days are spent in solitude and contemplation. If nothing else, this might mark the beginning of a new routine, a gentle reminder that even in stillness, there is room for something new. Each morning and evening, as I apply the soothing creams and products, I reflect on the shifts in my life – both those I’ve chosen and those that have been thrust upon me.
Despite the fog of confusion that lingers with this illness, my mind persists, albeit at a slower cadence, tirelessly sifting through thoughts. In this altered rhythm, I’ve found solace in yet another daily practice – pouring my reflections onto these pages. There’s a certain truth in the belief that writing can act as a balm for the mind, and I’ve come to appreciate this gift. For me, it feels like the starting of something new, fresh, and invigorating.
In Search of Simple Truths
In these moments of contemplation, I’m reminded of how easily we can feel dwarfed by life’s complexities when we think we’re towering giants, and conversely, how we can stand tall in our vulnerability. This delicate balance nudges me to recognise the hidden power nestled within life’s simplest moments, quietly waiting to be uncovered and cherished. It’s within these small acts of creation that I find clarity, prompting me to ponder: could this gentle unfolding be the first step toward a new dawn?
Perhaps it’s in these quiet, unnoticed spaces that life reveals its deepest truths. When we stop searching for grand gestures or monumental signs, we begin to see the beauty in the ordinary – the morning light streaming through the window, the soft hum of a daily routine, the slow but steady pace of recovery.
Life, in all its uncertainty, doesn’t always come with clear answers or a well-lit path. But maybe that’s the point.
Life, in all its uncertainty, doesn’t always come with clear answers or a well-lit path. But maybe that’s the point. Beginnings aren’t always meant to be understood in the moment; sometimes, they’re just small sparks – fragile and fleeting – but enough to guide us through the darkness.
As I write these words, I wonder: what stories do you carry in your heart? I invite you to share your thoughts in the comments below – let’s hope to create a gentle chorus of experiences that remind us how diverse and intriguing beginnings can be.
You are both profound and clear in your thinking and musing. There have been occasions in my life when big choices were needed which would have meant changing continents to live and work. My deeper senses told me these weren’t for now. On other occasions I have taken those steps moving thousands of miles away ( much more a dramatic change if your starting point is the UK, rather than somewhere like USA). How we make our choices and the living out of the consequences can be dark and steep pathways, but walk them we must otherwise we disintegrate
So much thought, and contemplation, Hopefully your vestibular condition resolves itself 🙏