Writer's block is not the only disease to plague a writer. There is also writer's sheer laziness. Which brings me to the point I intend to make today. It is not talent, not imagination, not desire, not passion, but sheer tenacity that makes a writer. The ability to hack away, or rather type away, regardless of state of mind, level of inspiration, mood....regardless of what other priorities appear. The ability to cut out laziness from life, to not indulge in self-doubt as an excuse to shirk, the quality of perseverance.
And it is this rather mundane quality that I lack. I can be single-minded, but only in spurts. I can be tenacious, but my patience runs out. I tell myself I am not convinced I can really write well, but I know thats a lie to disguise my lack of discipline.
Such self-realization has not, in my case, paved the way for self-improvement. Instead, it puts me into the complacent state of knowing my weaknesses and accepting them as they are. Perhaps I am simply not motivated enough to develop the qualities I need to write.
I will, someday. I believe there is a basic character we all have and then we have phases, dependent on age, stage of life, company, influences. I believe my life is still in flux, and I am the kind of person who thrives on that flux. So achieving stability to write is a particularly difficult thing.
Excuses, excuses..they are one too many.

I am taking my time to decide what my blog should be about. It might become a blog that contemplates blogging, though given the popularity of this activity, that may be nothing new either. I think, mostly, I am looking at substituting my personal diary (also something I indulged in for a long time, a long time ago) for this- a personal notepad that is open to all, except that most people I know would never go looking for it because they never ever blog!
What fun, to have an anonymity among so many thousands and yet always be open to disovery. In the days that I did write a diary, privacy was a big thing for me. It was really important to hide my thought, though I have always beena verbal person, so anyone who did read my diary would have read nothing that they had not heard. But the diary was personal and therefore special.
Today, things have changed. I am far more open, about my thoughts and feelings, as well as about the facts of my life. I know (and this is a let down, at best) that noone is really interested in knowing about my life. That is not sad, its just a fact. And it gives me a new-found freedom to do as I like and speak what I like, and now, write how I like.

I return to my blog after a long time with renewed enthusiasm to keep it going this time. A small kid and a super hectic work life have kept me away but as Udai (my child) grows and I find a little more mental space, I marvel at the lack of intellectual simulation in my life. The media and other stimulants are inane to say the least, but I seem to have forgotten to seek my own stimuli. To look for something good to read, to enjoy a conversation with someone intelligent, to write your heat out--these used to be things I thrived on. And now I find myself struggling o find my feet, or rather my own thoughts.
Young mother sundrome or hit-the-30s syndrome whatever it may be, I am now determined to get out of this. I can't change and become someone I would perceive as boring simply because I dont bother to take action
So here I am, a determined sort of person. Expect me to be here more often. I have just rediscovered me!