I have a strong desire to make more meaningful posts.
I don’t know what keeps me from doing so, or what impetus leads me to write about doing the thing rather than just DOING IT.
So I have a few resolutions blog-wise.
And the first is to title my entries.
A good policy me-thinks.
And as I continue to develop my business website, I want to bring more of my counselor, coach, artist self to my writing as well.
I actually write articles and newsletters and yet, when it comes to my journal, I don’t even dignify myself with full sentences the majority of the time.
To begin my “brand new day” I will share a little more than usual.
Today I tried a new personal writing technique for myself. Since generally all my juicy ideas and stories and thoughts race through my head when I try to sleep, I decided to try to go to sleep with a pen in hand. And I wrote alot more than usual, albeit alot sloppier than usual as well. My previous technique this morning included sitting in this overstuffed chair poised over my keyboard and staring at this too-bright screen. Then I tried using an audio device to record my thoughts. You might call my day “32 Ways to Fail Miserably Ay Expressing Yourself.” Anyway speaking my thoughts aloud does not work at all. Not only does it drastically alter my “voice” as a writer, but it becomes less free, less ME, and more performative. And much to the confusion and denial of those who profess to know me, the ability to chatter about uncensored is NOT a gift I possess. Oh sure, I can talk. I learned to communicate well at an early age. But what you are hearing, except on the very rarest of occasions, is not going to be my innermost thoughts. I am designed to look like an open book and be anything but— it’s been a fabulous defense mechanism. But it’s wearisome, like any other.
Not that I am trying to fool anyone. A close look will surely reveal my secretive nature. (Excuse the paradoxical expression . . .)
Surprisingly, I don’t “try” to be that way— or even think of it that way myself. The myth on occasion is that I am intentionally withholding. The fact is that I am an only child and never had any reason to share anything, including my thoughts and feelings. It doesn’t mean I don’t have them, or can’t articulate them. It’s quite the opposite. I just don’t. Never had much reason to bother. Not to mention years of living as an ultra-sensitive child where any reaction to a word I said could trigger intense and instantaneous self-reflection that frequently ended with my believing the person disliked me. Don’t worry, I’m SO over thet. Well, most of the time. *giggle* Thank ye goddes for adulthood! I am happy to be a “grown-up.”
I am finally at a point where I can comprehend all of the thoughts and ideas I’ve had and never expressed.
I think I am gonna give it a shot.