A white canvas is a thing that begs to exist looking back at something that begs to exist.
It is at this moment that I seem to be an eternal student; The place I have to begin.
I am a connoisseur of beginnings. I have tasted sweet ones, and bitter ones. I seek them continuously, finding a level of clarity unmatched by any other place. I love blank slates. A Tabula Rasa. I love new cities where no one knows me. New countries where I don’t even speak the language. I love waking up and forgetting where I am, and not knowing the date. As blank as I can paint my life the better. There is a simplicity and silence to this. There is also a challenge that stares back at you when faced with a blank slate. How will you begin again?
And how do we do this? Begin?
There is a reckless way, where we huck ourselves at the world without forethought and pick up the pieces later. There is a planned way where we patiently research how to approach, with care not to misstep. There is a middle ground where we tread thoughtfully and lead with wisdom and intuition, trusting we will know what to do. And my answer, you ask? I don’t think there is a wrong answer. I think the only wrong answer is not beginning at all.
I would argue that even the messiest of beginnings are perfect. Even the beginnings spent stuttering and sweating for fear of mistakes are perfect. Let our pounding hearts be a war drum to keep charging. I think standing up to begin is why we are here. Beginning can even mean feeling something you have been afraid to, or walking into a certain room. It could mean speaking up after too long a silence, or sending a letter. It is making a choice. Deciding to leave. Deciding to stay. If I could build an altar of beginnings I would. Heck, I’d build a Church of Beginnings. I’d have the sermon start with all of us saying what the hell we actually want. I’d have everyone yell their name. I’d say ‘Welcome to the Church of Beginnings. I am so glad you came.’
I find myself in one now, as I sit here in this cafe in Vienna. It is raining outside and I am regretting wearing a dress. I am deciding how to move forward knowing that I want to live in Vienna, yet having a home and life in Los Angeles. I would be leaving many people I love, for an act of intuition. I don’t know how to do it yet. It is unfamiliar, and there isn’t an answer I can google. I had a small conversation with the sky earlier asking if there could be a sign today that helps me along. Nothing yet. My toes are chilly. Just myself and my writing utensils here. I decided to write a newsletter and a small article on beginnings.