I'm starting this on my 67th birth anniversary, but I have no idea when it will all come together. Something compelled me to round up all of my old journals the other day and, to say the least, it's been a mind-changing experience after reading them in chronological order. I'm still not finished! I'm sure that I kept "diaries" at a younger age, but these 10 journals range from 1980 to 2014 with small and large gaps. I will call one huge gap (1985 - 1997) "Journal Gate"! I cannot believe that I didn't journal for that length of time, especially since that was such an eye-opening period, a time that changed my attitude toward who I could be, and what I was capable of.
Re-reading one's journals results in some awe-inspiring things ... you remember who you were, even recalling specific details not recorded (smells, sights, sounds), and you also realize what brought you to where you are now. In some ways it's rather unsettling. But it also makes me glad that I did it. I've mentioned before in this blog how important it is to keep a journal. It doesn't have to be an every day diary. That tends to blow the flow. It's cathartic, healing, and fun! I write when I most feel it, but I usually do date it. Otherwise how would I have known about my huge gap?!! From Dec. '09 through now, CaringBridge, and then this blog, became mixed in with handwritten journaling. They all serve to fill in details and feelings.
All ten of 'em!!
As one can see, I started out with steno pads, moved to the Mead Composition, a leather-bound, a spiral, and now the Moleskine like Ernest Hemingway used. An interesting progression. I know that, when I'm gone (if the journals still exist) some of the entries will cause a variety of feelings for those who read them, ranging from peed off to being astounded or just plain stunned. I've found myself chuckling here and there. But, if you read someone's journal, you must remember that they're written "in the heat of the moment", that things change later on, and that maybe what was written was true at the time, my perception of a particular incident. But I've always tried to err on the positive side with my journals, unless I really needed to rightfully vent.
The steno pads were begun when Ben & I left for California in 1980, revealing my incontestable efficacious attitude toward the future. I was high on life, ready to finish college, and fulfill some of my dreams. I amazingly maintained that attitude through what were some tough times for Ben. The early 80's brought another recession and it was difficult for him to find a good job in line with what he'd left in Iowa. Even when he finally left to go back to Iowa, I learned what being totally supportive meant, although it left me in California to depend on myself. He needed to be whole again, and to find out what he really wanted, and I understood. But oh my, what up's and down's! He discovered that what he wanted was what he'd left in California. What's meant to be will be. I finished that year of college, and returned to Iowa with him, even though, as I crossed state lines, it broke my heart. I could already sense myself going backward. As I read on in those journals, I could see myself reverting to "being all things to all people" except myself, a balloon slowly deflating. But through it all, I seemed to have always kept a positive outlook and easily saw the humor in things. I'm still that way, and I'm grateful for it. Its seen me through some genuinely adverse times. And I have it all in writing ....
The underlying thread in the journals I've read so far is that undying drive to avoid sinking. And, as I look back on my life, I can't think of anything that I've wanted that hasn't happened. Yes, I had to forgo much of my 'bucket list', but we, and only we, truly are responsible for the path our lives take. I always remember that saying which says something like "good things come from bad situations". It's been true for me so many times.
I look forward to learning more about myself that I've long forgotten. I'm beginning to see how looking back can serve to make me feel stronger about going forward, something that's too easily brushed aside in the scramble to just survive. An entry from March 1982 kind of says it all: "I'm battling that dependency that I was branded with when I was born a female. But unlike many others, I'm not willing to settle for it. I want to be the "Captain" of my own life. So I'm relegated to a life of restlessness". Moving forward to the present, I'm still pretty much that way! Entry from January 2005: "There's something inside that I haven't tapped, and my biggest fear is that I'll die before I do".
I'm still searching ... which is far better than settling.
No comments:
Post a Comment