There isn't anything in particular today. It is just that I felt I should do some writing.
This evening, I borrowed Stephanie Dowrick's
Creative Journal Writing. I think I am beginning to like her writings. Her writings seem to have a calming effect on me that urge me to reflect deeper on the complexities of life itself.
Somehow, reading the first few pages of the book reminded me that I could do more in terms of writing a journal. There were certain very dark periods of my life that I think journalling had helped me get in touch with some very deep emotions. Those were confusing moments filled with anguish, lots of doubts, and sadness. There were possibly glimpses of hope to find hope.
When I was doing spring cleaning about more than a year ago, I threw away two of journals in which there were very significant entries. Maybe I felt I was like the composer, Brahms, who would burn away the not-so-good works and the works that were not meant for public's eyes. I did not quite regret throwing them away. Afterall, I rarely reread those entries. It was just perhaps that only if my memory could continue to serve me well, then I would be able to access the memories of what had been written on those entries that have been thrown away. Those were the entries that bear witness to the ups-and-downs of my life, my darker sides, my failures and my triumphs.
Life is beginning to seem so complex. Yet it can be so simple if we live by certain values. What used to seem just a matter of black and white, now seems to be a gradation of greys. It's not that when we are older, that our eyes can't see well enough. It may be exactly that we are older, our evolving wisdom helps us see the finer nuances that we had not seem to see. That in the brightness of the day, there is darkness. In the times of hope, there is uncertainty underlying. In the times of confusion, there is a time to help one reflect on one's purposes.
Then here I write, with no intention to be understood. If any reader were to read this and don't understand, it is perfectly normal. Yet I hope in writing, I could lend you a glimpse of me, and how writing about journal writing got me thinking about life itself.