The blank page with the blinking cursor. You know what I’m talking about? I’ve seen it more times than I care to say. Sometimes I sit down and just start typing and things flow out. I have had thoughts and sentences brewing and percolating up there in the brain housing group, so when fingers hit the keyboard, I am off and running. Other times, I pull up Notes on the iPad and stare at this blank white screen, knowing I WANT to write something, but nothing at all is coming to mind. No humorous anecdotes or interesting story or profound truth discovered whilst cruising the landscape. So then, I am relegated about writing about a blank screen. So let’s go with that, shall we?
I guess when I think about it, the blank page is a good place to start. The idea of the tabula rasa — the clean slate (which, very simply put, is essentially that we start clean and are shaped by ideas and experiences) is applied to statements we often hear like “tomorrow is a new day” or “we can start this new year fresh.” The idea of the reset, the realignment, the relaunch is another concept that we often participate in throughout our life. It’s like I come to a point when I make a decision to start new. Like getting a brand new computer and there is nothing of you on it. It just has the basic stuff that enables it to function, but there are no photos, no personal documents, no clutter, no tweaks and things that make it yours. It’s fresh and ready to go. And sometimes that feels so good to just start new without all the stuff that made it slow and overwhelming. So it is with me. And you. All of us need those moments of reset, of the blank page, when nothing has been written yet. Those moments in the early morning before the noise and tasks of the day begin to creep in and overwhelm our days when we just sit, reflect, pray, meditate, think. Nothing has “happened” yet, we are just in a place of being.
Imagine if as you went about your day, a court reporter followed you all around, documenting your words and actions. How quickly would words, sentences, paragraphs start flowing down that blank page, chronicling the activities and statements of your day. How would that read? If you read your day at the close, how would it make you feel?
- Joshua smiles at and compliments barista at Starbucks and has positive conversation. It’s a beautiful sunny day. Walks out feeling good. Arrives at work in a great mood ready to start the day. Stops for a cool picture of a snow covered tree.
- It’s snowing and Joshua slips on driveway and has to scrape off truck. Joshua glares at guy who cuts him off in traffic and mutters something unintelligible but negative sounding. Comes to train stopped across the tracks and complains loudly (to the air). Gets to work generally annoyed.
Would you look back on your day and think, “Dang, what a jerk that guy is! What is going on in his life?” Or would you look back and say, “Man, that was fun to read. That guy really enjoys his life! And look at all the cool moments and great conversations that happened!” I think it goes back to what Dave Ramer says about living above the fray — living so that you are not sucked into a life of chaos and negative, but staying level and steady, with grace and optimism day to day. Thus your pages will be filled with stories and words of hope, of joy, and gratitude, even on the days when the stories are a little more difficult or sad. It’s like when you read the songs of David in the Psalms — many of them are emotionally charged: angry, hurt, sad, ecstatic — yet so often he ends with gratitude and praise.
So yeah… the blank page, the clean slate. It’s not a bad place to start is it?
