Let's begin again

Hello, darling reader. I haven't been able to post recently for a number of reasons, many of which make me sad to think about and i'd rather avoid the subject entirely however I feel like I owe you an explanation. I've been rather busy with various things such as my grandparents being over and my friend coming to stay but I've also received some horrid news about my granddad who lives in Singapore and it's just really not good. I'm finding it hard to deal with, mainly because I've never lost anyone before and I didn't realise just how awful that feeling in the pit of your stomach is, but i'm coping and so is my family. 

I'll move away from the sad news now. I feel really out of touch with this blog, as if before it was a best friend who I could confide in and share my deepest feelings with but now is an old friend, disconnected as the strings of similarities have been cut away with the sharpest of scissors. I have nothing to blog about, whatsoever, and my blog has no real comfort to me. However, I wish to amend this.

A twitter friend (Christina who can be found at @takealookattime) recommended that I wrote about things which inspire me. I've decided to do as she has suggested and rather enjoy the idea of filling in peoples requests until ideas begin to flow again. Perhaps you could email me with suggestions on what you would like to see in my blog? My email is rossybowties@gmail.com if you want to give it a go.

So, the question for today is 'What inspires me?'. The beautiful thing about this question is that it is so open. Should I write about what or who inspires me in day to day life, or what inspires me to write? I choose to write about what inspires me to write, seeing as it is the reason why I am continuing with this blog. That plus my readership is wonderful and I love every single person who reads my rambling nonsense.

What inspired me to write from the age of around seven was the fact that I had no other talents. Whilst my friends were plastered in ballet shoes and tutus and shoved onto a stage, lights blaring down at them as they twirled about like wonderful sparkling faeries; I watched from the audience with a frown on my face and a heavy heart. I couldn't dance. Whilst my friends were plastered in football boots and football shirts and scurried across a field, chasing a ball as a cat would chase a mouse; I watched from the sidelines with a frown on my face and a heavy heart. I couldn't play football. You see, my childhood was filled with being proud of others, yet rarely feeling proud of myself. 

Then I picked up a pencil.

A magical invention, from which words which had trickled from the corners of my mind and swirled through my veins down to the tips of my fingers could flow onto the page, drowning notebooks in stories and poems. Although I was not a talented writer as a child, I enjoyed it thoroughly and I can recall now a notebook I had which was decorated with Disney princesses and which held within it dozens of fairy tale worlds that I had created. What inspired me to write was the fact that my notebooks would listen to me, and appreciate my writing more than anyone else did.

As I grew older, I was inspired by authors who poured beautiful words, laced together into even more beautiful sentences, into books which I enjoyed so much. I was enchanted by Enid Blyton's Faraway Tree and swept away to Hogwarts by J.K Rowling. I dived head first into these stunning books and still haven't emerged from the worlds within them.

Nowadays, i'm inspired by the beauty of the earth around me. I'm inspired by the noise grass makes as it ripples in a cool summer breeze, the leaves of the trees rustling and the twigs tapping together; an natural orchestra of wondrous sounds usually ignored by the ears of humans. I'm inspired by the first light of day as it crawls over the houses in a pink haze, greeting the birds which are already singing their songs to one another and hopping about the trees, tickling the rare few humans who are awake early enough to witness how rosy and rich in colour the sky is. I'm inspired by the smiles of passers by, the curl of their lips upon their faces which prove that a secret is tucked away somewhere inside them just bursting to be revealed to the world so that it can spread the happiness around.

I am inspired by each day, each moment in which I find something beautiful or rare which clutches at my heart and holds on, sending warmth throughout my body. Although things might get tough, for both myself and my readers, I can still be inspired to write, as no matter how hard things get there are still reasons for us all to smile.

I have begun to inspire others, just today a friend has started writing a blog after reading mine, and that seven year old girl who felt like such a failure at such a young age is finally discovering something which makes her feel proud of herself. I'm proud of myself. As, for once in my life, I am beginning to spread the word. I'm making others smile, and then they are trying to make others smile because of their smiles and the smiles are just spreading far and wide - reaching places all over the world. I'm sat in South East England with a smile across my face, and my granddad is sat in a bed in Singapore and he will soon have chunks of my blog in his hands (I've sent him some of my blog posts as a gift, he's very ill and I thought it might cheer him up) and perhaps I can share that smile with him too.

I hope I can inspire more people, I hope you can all inspire others, and I hope that the world around us continues to inspire everyone with its beauty and wonder.

I will leave you with that. Good night, dear reader, and sleep well.

Ayesha x