Growing up with Blog

My friend, Kama, is the first person who introduced me to blogging. It was in 2009. He showed to me a handful blogs of Bhutanese. A few amongst them are Sogyel, Passu, and Penstar. These people have maintained their blogs beautiful; even more so, they’ve written gloriously. And I can’t tell you how much their words captivated me. Oh, I adored the idea that I, too, could make a difference with words; I could impact people with a blog. I want one such blog, I had desired.

But it was only in July 2010 that I could create my own blog. Yes, this blog. My ex-girlfriend, who is also a blogger, has created this blog for me. In fact, she has played a central role in my creative life. She’s the woman who instilled in me this habit of writing and reading books. Today, wherever she would be, I give her thank for all this.

Now, it’s been two years of blogging and it’s hard for me to imagine my life without it. This blog has a tight claim on my heart. In the beginning, I wrote particularly for myself. I was, then, going through difficult circumstances and writing, for me, was healing.

I didn’t mind spending hours holed, alone, writing. However, writing helped me discover fresh wisdoms and better understanding of life by delving into different circumstances and exploring my feelings and imaginations. The practice of writing here, on my blog, has enormously changed the way I relate and engage with the world.   

But today what stands out for me is this blogging journey that I’ve been privileged to take, the community of blogger friends that I’ve found and kept, and the posts I’ve written. There are many fellow-bloggers that I never met in person, but it seems to me that I know them very well. When I see them in the towns and meetings, I call out and talk to them. And I’m proud to say that many bloggers have come to meet me. Over cup of coffee or tea, we chat, mostly about blogging and bloggers.

It brings me immense pleasure and satisfaction when I hear my post touches a reader and provides a similar sensation to someone else. One of my ardent readers wrote to me:

“Hey, it’s like you’ve pulled all words from my heart and put them on paper, on your blog. Everything you say, I was nodding here. I feel same like you though I could never express it on paper, and thank goodness I realized now that I’m not alone.”

And you know what? I love to spend uninterrupted time going through all your updated blogs. Reading your stories is a favorite pastime of mine. You make me feel nostalgic, amazed, and wiser with your brilliant post and idealisms.

A few published authors told me to stop blogging and free up all time for writing books. Even many of my friends, colleagues and blog followers wanted me to try to do some real writing outside of this blog. But, now and then, I think I just can’t seem to do that. After all, this blog has given me so much that I can’t just ignore it, right away.

Today, there are many Bhutanese newspapers and magazines, and even a few international websites that wanted me to write for them. Also, a few emerging projects and organizations wanted me with them. And yes, this blog reached me to an audience with our beloved King and Queen.

Yet, I know that my blog posts aren’t eloquent or genius. They are boring, cliché and predictable. Because the truth is that I’m still experimenting writing with all the flaws, foibles and fragilities. I’m still a mediocre writer who has lots to learn himself. But I say…my writings are just real. Very raw, spoken like a true teenager, saturated with honesty.

I also know that through writing, I’ve always revealed something about myself. For, I’ve allowed myself to be seen naked, my heart rippened open. Sometimes, I’ve dug deep into my old wounds, my past and I’ve become emotional, over-sensitive and weepy. Other times, I’ve become bitter and sarcastic. I’ve also exposed my weakness and vulnerability and feelings of insecurity, fear, and loneliness. But oftentimes, I’ve stood optimistic and positive, writing about beauty and celebrating life. Well, my blog is all about this. And, in the looking, I find my whole life in it.