journaling

I used to keep a physical journal; technically, I still do, but it's been neglected for several (upon several) months. I also used to write journal entries in this blog. On a whim, I just read through my posts from 2008 and 2009. I was confused by some things (my writing style was weirdly abstract), amused by others, but mostly happily startled by how consistent my life goals have always been. 

• In 2009, I expressed a desire to get teacher-certified.
• In 2008, I already expressed some doubt about attending graduate school. 
• Two years prior to my wedding date (to the day), I listed that I wanted to be a part of a "selfless relationship," which I understood then, and now, to mean a long-lasting romantic partnership.
• Even during my impressionable years of not-quite-adulthood, I had the same pet peeves and concerns about the world.
• I have always expressed a desire to know reality, to know truth. I yearned, and continue to yearn, to live in reality and to search for beauty stripped of delusion, even if that means I must deal more completely with sorrow.

Often, when I look back at who I was in 2007 or 2008, I see myself through a skeptical, self-deprecating lens. I scoff at earlier-me's naivete, her hope, her unknowing, free-flowing passion. But I should trust myself more. A little life experience and a lot of growing up has made me more hesitant to speak with force and assumed knowledge, but my heart is in it just as much now as it was then. I know better than to confront an issue as if no opposition could possibly arise. But I do admire myself, in all my child-like innocence, speaking passionately on love and loss and human experience. 

I hope that I can continue my 23 year old tradition of journaling, of observing, of making sense out of life events, no matter how inconsequential they are in the grand scheme of things. 

What I bring now is a better sense of how narrative works to inform us, to counsel us, to - in many cases - close us off to further discussion. I bring experience: loss, love, a new understanding of grief and struggle and confusion and joy.

I bring, hopefully, a more comprehensible writing style. I hope, though, I haven't lost the poetry.