The big blackboard

The beginning of the year is always such a time of introspection and thought for me. It’s silly, really, because the 1st of January is just another day, after the 31st of December. I always feel like a new year is an enormous blank slate, like those little blackboards kids used to use in school. But a huge one – a humungous, smooth, empty black space, with hundreds of boxes of coloured chalk below it, waiting to be drawn with in twirls and curves and plain print and cursive. Just millions of options, expectantly waiting.

This year I am going to make an effort to feel that way every day or, at least, every month. I’m going to try and fill my blackboard with colours and writings each month and then, at the end of it, start some more. I want to try and not be weighed down by what’s gone before.

Sounds so deep doesn’t it? I’ll tell you a secret… I just thought of it as I was writing this post. I often think up my blog posts in the early hours of the morning. Even more often, they flitter straight from my head and out of my bedroom window, to be scattered on the breeze… little images and sentences let free into the dewy morning air.

Not this one, though, this one flowed out and, luckily, landed on a page, right here in the Ivory Tower at Real Work. And I think I’ll keep it.