I don't know what it is, but the process of just writing these words – of just starting – is potent. It doesn't matter how much time has passed; the act of writing is always new. That's the appeal of it, I suppose.
Of course, having all of the accoutrements of writing is fun; apps, tools, and books. Writing about writing is a kind of practical procrastination. However, nothing beats the act of writing itself, whatever it may be about.
In this last bit is where I think of something profound to say, something that will wrap up my thoughts in a nice little bow. I'm never at a lack for something profound, but sometimes all you can say is goodnight (see, that's kind of profound). In any case, why don't we end with a 1…2…3…4.
I choose to write about positive things, or at least write about negative things in a positive way. I do this because I feel like it, and for my own emotional and mental well-being. Over the long term, it works out positively.
One of the themes of my writing is self-improvement, and at the foundation of that are the Life Areas, which are like a garden. Each area of the garden (or of life) grows a different kind of flora and fauna. Of course, we’re the gardeners of our Life Areas.
I’ve got stories I’m going to write, with characters other than me and myself, although I think the story of my life is interesting, too.
I’m rediscovering fun; things like watching movies, listening to music, painting, and writing. It used to be easy, but now it feels like I have to learn how to do it all over again. These days, everything seems to trigger bad memories; even good ones can turn bad on a dime.
I can feel the resistance – the blocks, the obstacles, the anxiety, the depression, the antagonism – but I choose to no longer fight with myself. Instead, I’m there for myself no matter what; something that was missing before. Now I’m taking responsibility for my own happiness.
Because I’m watching more movies, I’m seeing my life as a story (even more so than usual). Dreams I’ve had since I was a kid are starting to come true. Now it’s that part in the movie where the main character has to take a leap of faith.
As I went about my Sunday routines, I had the realization that I’ve barely scratched the surface of who I truly am. This is both exciting and frustrating. There’s so much that I want to create and express.
Creating things willy-nilly isn’t all that satisfying, either. Part of the fun is in connecting with others. Of course, there’s also the issue of making a living.
Rather than fighting the form and structure, I’m learning from it. Boundaries have their uses, after all. Focus is the key.
I feel a deep appreciation at how far I’ve come in the past few years. Journaling, writing, blogging, and art have been true companions long before and after people have come and gone. I know what it’s like to be left out in the cold and hung out to dry.
Though protected, my heart isn’t bitter. I still have a sense of wonder. Appreciation flows through me.
There’s no part of me that I’ve ever been able to extinguish. I’ve only ever grown. Self-acceptance is, as I see it, my only road to salvation.
Liver Forever and Just Like Heaven cover songs on acoustic guitar.
It’s another wake up from a dream at 3am (technically 2) kind of night. I did my usual things, and also having a – the more things change, the more they stay the same – kind of moment.
As I was browsing through some older entries, I reminisced about the ups and downs of life, how people have come and gone, yet here I am still writing on my blog. I think of it as keeping myself honest.
I’m not one to dish out advice. I have a hard enough time taking my own. I believe in figuring out my own path and letting others figure out theirs.