300th Article
“I’m here to say something and to touch other people, sometimes in a cry of desperation: ‘Do you know this feeling?'”
Keith Richards,
Life
Sometimes I find myself staring into my bookshelves. I get to thinking about the things I’ve learned over the years, and how relevant, or irrelevant, they have become in my life at the present moment. I think about how much I have changed, or haven’t changed.
Sometimes, I get to thinking about books I’ve long had on my shelves, but haven’t gotten around to reading. I think about how it’s fine if I never get down to reading them, because they at least act as a sort of anti-library, reminding me of how much there is in the world that I don’t know, that I may never know.
For some reason, my thoughts have recently revolved around a particular item sitting high on my bookshelf. It is a box set of the Red Hot Chili Peppers’ Stadium Arcadium album. I’ve owned the set for 10 years now, and I distinctively remember buying it with nearly a year’s worth of money I saved from not eating during recess in high school. As much as I’ve loved the album all these years, this was the first time I really thought to myself, “What does Stadium Arcadium actually mean?”
It turned out that the imagery that they envisioned for Stadium Arcadium was “a group of people in the middle of nowhere listening to music together in the middle of the night creating a light which is reflecting the sort of heavens above.” The song and album which bear the name Stadium Arcadium, then, were about “connecting to people by way of music, for the sake of honoring the universe and connecting to the universe.”
If seen from space, it would seem as though there is a stadium of connected hearts — their lights incandescent, as if mirroring the stars.
This mental picture was etched in my mind as I prepared for my 300th article on this blog. Because ultimately, it’s a symbol for why, even after years of putting out weekly content, I’ve never doubted if the tremendous amount of energy and time I dedicate here are even worth it. It is a perfect representation of why I write, which is to shine a light, to touch a heart.
As I attempt to make sense of my life, it is in my highest hopes that I could reach out and connect to you in some way. And from this connection, we may have a better footing in understanding ourselves and the world around us, and in turn, become better people.
Often I try to remind myself that there are no guarantees in art, and in life. No one could guarantee that my work here could lead to something bigger, or anything at all. And no one is making me do this, either. If I decided to leave this blog today, there would probably be little to lose — perhaps I’d even be saving the money that goes to an annual WordPress plan.
But I’m always going to keep writing, simply because it’s what I love to do, and with it, my life has meaning. It’s how I find myself, and lose myself, at the same time. And it has always been worth it.
Besides being a reminder for the immense love that I have for this craft, this milestone has also filled me with gratitude. And with that, dear reader, I’d like to thank you from the bottom of my heart. Thank you for reading my work, and thank you for being with me. If my writing has made your life better in any way, I am truly humbled.
This 300th article goes to you.
Crap, I think I’m tearing up.
Izzat Zailan 