Edits

Recently, I had edited a thesis and a report. It was arduous and fun. Arduous because I undermined the actual time it would take for me to ease into the role. And fun because I felt like I’m on a ride, on top of the words, picking “gems” – some I throw away because they were mere debris, cluttering the scene, while some I polish because they have potential.

There was frustration at first while looking at the mire, but simultaneously, in a strange, profound way, it made my heart flutter. I’ve discovered my love for words in high school, but only started writing after school. And now I’m editing! Education, for me, has only just begun.

Today is pivotal for me. Before, I felt it best for people to partake into my indecision – I let the world decide for me. But now I discovered I can make a solid decision for myself. It has been a pile of small choices which led me to this day. It’s freeing.

What I have learned from editing and proofreading someone’s work was meaning: It made me feel, or perhaps hope, that I’m adding a sliver of value to someone’s life through words, sometimes painfully omitting them, or peppering some in elusive crevices. It makes me think that improving ourselves and extending it to others, however small or subtle, is what makes up an art.

Seven days into it made me realize how much I assumed I know, what in fact I don’t, and how much I could do about it. My job in research made sense. Citation, indeed, is an art and it pays to know them well whenever necessary. I got to know APA better. That’s a bonus.

It also taught me how to be flexible, i.e., without relying heavily on computer. Doing most of the revisions on paper – slashes here, insertion there – allowed me to detect errors more easily. Despite the lack of space to insert words or phrases (line spacing was single), the limitation in itself helped me stretch out of my comfort zone. It could be messy but it’s interesting. And it’s human, too. I think I’m beginning to understand what connection means. It made me buy a blue pen.

 

 

 

Let’s Smith Some Words!

WriteTogether_01

Writing, for me, is a discovery. And I believe we’re malleable beings, ready to stretch if we allow ourselves to.

How about we write together… make our words dance and surface to life.

These creations could be a blog post or an essay. I can also edit and proofread a manuscript. 

I write about the wonders of the ocean, most of which reside in Blogspot

Here at P To Be Awesome, I’ve mused about minimalism, digital curation, wellness, solitude, existential poems, among a slew I freely write about. 

You can read through my archive to see what I can write for you. If you’re keen for a surprise, I could take a challenge.

Tell me anything about yourself, what you’re up to, and what you’d like for us to write about. 

Do One Thing

Do nothing – I followed Markus Almond’s advice. Except that a pen and a blank paper embraced the solace with me.

The ink as it first touches the inviting white space was revealing. It is thought coming to life. The fluidity of our hands and minds working in confluence – laser-beam focused on a single task of putting every stroke, letter, word, then thoughts – was just amusing.

Most days are usually mundane, mechanical even. Our bodies are built for habits, automatically making us get up, eat, work and snooze. Perhaps we have chips inside us designed to keep doing essentially a variation of the same things. Unwrapping novelty, excitement, and discovery requires an intentional muscle.

However, at this moment, catching myself feel, curiously prying into my consciousness, taking it apart, I felt I’ve put a finger on something tangible and freeing –  my breath, the coldness, the idle bright screen, the windows brightly lit, my sweaty palms, the solidity of the table against my pulse.

Immersing one’s self into the fine details of a plain event has stretched the time table, if only for a short burst of moment.

The moment, indeed, doesn’t have to be special. It can as simple as sitting still.

But being curious about it, taking the time to slow down, to do one thing, or do nothing at all, is what will spear us back to calm and eventually, to clarity.

There are no deadlines or any a sense of urgency that could rob me of the present moment.

It’s only me sitting, dissecting  the sensation, simultaneously wondering and grateful.

What doing nothing meant for me was indulging on the cellularity of one action.