…human beings are possessed of something special, something extra, something unnecessarily rich, something that the novelist Marilynne Robinson calls ‘an overabundance that is magical.’
Big Magic: Creative Living Beyond Fear by Elizabeth Gilbert
On 18-February-2015, I set up this blog. I didn’t agonise over the name. It crossed my mind like a loyal dog who was waiting for his human to utter his name. Worncorners.
What does Worncorners mean? The answer has been elusive. But I have always managed with the weak ones like ‘a life well lived?’ and ‘dogeared pages…’ I must be honest for I really didn’t invest a lot; the name chose itself. Ahem. Ahem. 🙂
When I started blogging here, I reminded myself that I would write only about books. I was too shy to call them book-reviews. So I settled with something like ‘bookish thoughts.’ Despite the self-imposed restrictions, I was thrilled. I read more. I wrote more. It felt like I lived more too.
Life became eventful then. Naturally, my blog bore the brunt of the tempest. I ran here like a child who was determined to crayon on all the walls. No. Maybe I ran here like a mad elephant. I complained. I bawled. I sought sympathy. And… I drew strength.
The bloggers and visitors here, propped me up with kindness. Random act of kindness. In this virtual room, I found love and compassion. In this space, I went through a brief period of catharsis.
Above all, I was not judged for being human.
In between the maelstrom of my emotions, I managed to write about books too. Sigh!
I can be here when I am myself. I can be here when my head is full of scary noises. I can be here when I feel loved and cherished. I can be here when I loathe myself. And I can be here when I don’t want to be anywhere else. In time, I realised that this blog is a sanctuary where I am always, always received with warmth.
As I write this post, I am telling myself that I will not box this blog. I might have started with only books in my mind, but I seemed to have decided a long time ago to not cut its wings.
Perhaps, in its fluidity lies my freedom.
Also, I mustered the courage to read my first post. I squirmed as I read it. However I have now become narcissistic enough to quote myself. 😉 I had always known that I will make this blog a potpourri.
However, I must warn you, my dear reader. The pedestrian articles might unnerve you. But, there is nothing more you may expect from a self-professed writer, who has chosen to write for… herself.
Many thanks for reading my blogs! Many, many thanks for leaving comments! Many, many, many thanks for being my life-witness. 🙂
PS: Thank you for making me believe that I can write.
PPS: Thank you for reminding me about the overabundance in me. ❤