Journaling

So here I am - writing. I haven't done creative stuff like this in a while. As I was doing my thesis, I was definitely writing but it was a different style. It was creative only so much and it was constrained by the university and professional guidelines and edited to meet certain departmental specifications. So why after all of that work and stress am I still writing? I don't really know but it's something I just need to get out. I could just do yet another journal (for myself) but I've realized that I like feedback - having sparks of conversation. OK we know I love conversation but this is primarily me saying whatever comes to me that I think others might enjoy or benefit from.

I didn't always care for feedback though. I think the first time I had to keep a journal was for Mrs. Way's 6th grade English class. I remember not liking the thought of being graded on writing down what I thought. And what I did I want to write about that I cared to share with my teacher anyway? As a pre-teen my thoughts were private and I wanted it to stay that way! Of course I wasn't going to tell her that. Throughout middle and high school I know I wrote some pretty stupid journals - a pondering of the many different things rocky asphalt was made up of.... how I couldn't think of anything to write about so I was writing about not having anything to say to make sure I could fill the page.... Yes I really wrote about these things. I know now that the point was just to get us to write and it wasn't about the content, but back then for me it was about balance. How much did I have to do to keep my grade in tact but at the same time not telling anything that was too embarrassing or would get anyone in trouble.

In college my private journal became an outlet when I had "my moments:" When I was upset but couldn't talk about it with anyone; when I was homesick; felt lonely. Whatever emotion couldn't manifest to the outside world it went to paper. I still use the written word as my outlet. I think it's healing to just get it out sometimes. These -isms I'm sharing with you, my -isms, are the parts I need to get out, want to get out, that I can share. May you enjoy. May they spark a memory for you. May they encourage you to see another perspective.

And thank you Mrs. Way. God rest your soul.