The problem with not journaling regularly is when I sit down to finally log some thoughts, I have too many to choose from. Then the task of recording everything worth writing seems too gargantuan and I give up, not writing anything for the 79th day in a row. I’ve tried to NaNoWriMo twice now and never made it to a single word count. Not.One.Word. But then, that’s the trouble with me. I’m afraid of mountains. In a paradoxical turn of events, I’ve always wanted to clamber up a literal mountain. I want to see that breathtaking view and take in the grandeur of the peaks and the sun and clouds. Yet if I consider anything in my life to represent a figurative mountain, I cringe and shrink into the shadows.
Anyway, it doesn’t matter because here I am, writing. I’m writing.
I am exhausted emotionally. I had some moments of fierce joy and quiet peace, some gratitude and silliness. But I also encountered some long-standing nagging doubts and the uneasy conviction that I’m avoiding grief again. Which usually ends up with me crashing explosively in some way and realizing, as I pick up the rubble, that I was hiding some molten grief beneath the surface of my life.
Three years, May 17th, 2009.
I haven’t visited the gravesite of my dad since we buried him. Not once. And I’m not even sure why. I don’t feel scared to go or intimidated. I can sense I’m avoiding it but I’m not sure what the reason is. Maybe I’m just sick of crying, of getting emotional. Maybe I don’t like the idea of inviting that mess into myself. Or would it be exposure?
I miss writing. The three days without any of my kids I was amazed how inspiring EVERYTHING was. I had the ability to observe on a level that rarely happens these days. I saw shapes in the clouds for the first time in a long while. I imagined silly things like cloud sprites and absurd plots about the people in the cars around me. And I was a little frightened at the difference to my mind, having the time to think and to observe without constant checklists going on. Is there any way to discipline my mind to capture that inspiration again? Is there any way for me to turn off the checklists for shorter periods of time? I hope so… I doubt I’ll have three days in a row without children again anytime soon. That was sort of a one-hit wonder.
I just deleted that last paragraph. It was complaining, nothing but whiny pouting. Alright. Done.