About Me. Well, What?

I did something really difficult today. I wrote an introduction about myself (in third person, no less!) to put on a website for which I'm doing the content. The first version was as flavourful as the best cardboard money can buy. The second was a paean of praise that made me embarrassed even to proof-read it.

I ultimately churned out something mid-way between both the first drafts, and it got me wondering. What exactly made it so difficult? Am I really so uncomfortable talking to myself? Or is it something else? And then it struck me. It was the need for brevity. The introduction I had to write was to be no more than a short paragraph of three or four sentences, and it also had to have a little about what inspires me.

I had to decide what to put in it. I had to glean a few aspects of myself and my entire life, select some, and put it all in a few sentences. I had to decide one or a maximum of two things/people which/who inspire me. That decision was the tough part. Should I write about the lazy person who simply does not want to wake up in the morning but stays up all night immersed in a book? (Lord of The Rings, un-put-down-able, I tell you.) About the girl who waxes eloquent about the spirals of steam rising from her morning cuppa, or the cynic who thinks the universe is out to bite everyone in the ass? About the ace procrastinator or the “now or never” person who gets things done? I am both. At different times, in different moods, of course. But both are integral parts of who I am.

And the part about what inspires me. I am a creature of the moment, of the present mood. I have a really tough time answering questions about my favourite song or cinema or book. I have many, I simply cannot name one. Each one speaks to me differently and has a different kind of appeal, depending on my mood. I had to choose from millions of things and moments and people, to write about one that inspires me the most.

I ended up choosing the sea, and P.G. Wodehouse. The sea, because the sight of the ocean always calms me down and reminds me that I am just part of a much larger whole. The sea is ever-changing, yet it endures. And Wodehouse, because nothing lifts my blackest moods better than some Wooster sauce with a side of Jeeves. Wodehouse churned out some of the best, funniest, wittiest prose the world has ever seen. He did it effortlessly. And you just bask in its glow. Reading Wodehouse reminds me that there’s a lighter side to life, and you can find it if you look at it the right way.

So until tomorrow, cheerio and pip pip! What?