Come to think of it, when I first started blogging it seemed like I had so much to share! I was a kindling bushel of tap dancing thoughts, electric and so flamboyantly spewing everything: heart, liver, guts, and all!Shucks, in retrospect, I can't believe I wrote so much - THAT much! This was years ago of course. I was in my roaring adolescent 30's, lost and struggling between the pull of shaving or waxing, and of impending wrinkles signaling the arrival of doom.
Ah, but prior to going web online, I was one lucky ' mommy who actually had her own PC. It was a big necessity since I was homeschooling two boys and had to prepare a mountain
( understatement) of paperwork. In the evenings when a semblance of peace finally hit home, I would creep up to our bedroom and sporadically tap tee tap tap on an offline journal, writing in bursts of gunfire when the adrenaline hit. Not everyday tho'. Just when the mood prevailed.
How I truly ached( and still do) to be one of those diligently faithful "everyday inspired to write diarists" creatively waxing words, weaving phrases in flowing braids of thought. But, what had I to say when it seemed so that minutes and hours ticked pretty much the same.
( understatement) of paperwork. In the evenings when a semblance of peace finally hit home, I would creep up to our bedroom and sporadically tap tee tap tap on an offline journal, writing in bursts of gunfire when the adrenaline hit. Not everyday tho'. Just when the mood prevailed.
How I truly ached( and still do) to be one of those diligently faithful "everyday inspired to write diarists" creatively waxing words, weaving phrases in flowing braids of thought. But, what had I to say when it seemed so that minutes and hours ticked pretty much the same.
I also kept several handwritten diaries, pouring the churning random chaos of a twenty something mom, wife, fledgling woman. Ack, the total drama of it all, oddly interspersed with ringing bouts of delirious sighs' of the good times, like that moment we bought our first brand new car, a Toyota. Ah, my diary was my proverbial - wailing wall, I guess.
My diaries were also practical repositories of my poetic doodles, my flower drawings, my meticulously crafted budget of a shopping list, my faithful daily menu ( rarely was it followed), my prospective client list ( I was dabbling into real estate - I actually thought I could be one of those mega sales tycoons..drats!), and - Bible memory verses, one for each week. Like...wowI did that?!
Int'restingly, rarely do I place the effort of reading back through the lot. When I do though, I find my shopping list to be the most interesting entry to browse. And then of course, as I slowly skim through, I can't help but slowly shake my head and knot my brows, for the lady of long ago who wrote on those black thin lined pages could hardly be described as - ME.
My diaries were also practical repositories of my poetic doodles, my flower drawings, my meticulously crafted budget of a shopping list, my faithful daily menu ( rarely was it followed), my prospective client list ( I was dabbling into real estate - I actually thought I could be one of those mega sales tycoons..drats!), and - Bible memory verses, one for each week. Like...wowI did that?!
Int'restingly, rarely do I place the effort of reading back through the lot. When I do though, I find my shopping list to be the most interesting entry to browse. And then of course, as I slowly skim through, I can't help but slowly shake my head and knot my brows, for the lady of long ago who wrote on those black thin lined pages could hardly be described as - ME.
ok, we wait :)
ReplyDeletealways growing and learning and adapting and changing ... you are beautiful.
ReplyDeletesometimes I really do think you live in my head <3
ReplyDeleteI feel a blog post coming on, thank you for the seed of inspiration~
~♥~♥~♥~
Oh, I love your new blogskin! Lovely, lovely, lovely and that terrific quote from Whitman.
ReplyDeleteI've been reading and catching up on all my fave blogfriends and I've been sitting here reading your posts, one after another after another....
Diaries. I used to keep diaries since childhood using it as a venue to pen words, ideas, growing pains, etc. Then, in my 20s and 30s - two of the worst decades of my life (I lost two of my children and both parents) - I used to pen, pen, pen much sorrow and pain and anger. One day (and I regret this now) I sat and read a few of these diaries and became so distraught that all my words were words of pain that I ripped them all up and threw those diaries away. I was not yet on my way back from healing (which would have made me react differently to this) but was still so entrenched in the sorrow and anger that I didn't want any more reminders. To this day, I regret it so much. Everything that was in me back then was captured there and now I have only the memories of the pain and struggle to serve me...perhaps, this is not bad either. Perhaps the memories and not the returning to that point in time with such clarity is best....