writing has always been how i process, how i make sense of the world, how i just write in my journal like i’m talking to a friend.
writing is how i’ve learned to be a friend to myself.
writing is how i learned to tell the truth. and gave me courage to actually speak it out loud. and i continue to learn truth-telling and courage daily.
writing will always be there.
writing can happen anywhere. i just wrote while eating breakfast at a favorite local spot and i got stared at like “why are you alone and why are you writing?” to which my inward reply was, “why wouldn’t i be writing?”
writing allows me to be disorganized. this enneagram 1 needs a few spaces that are messy and completely disorganized. my journal is one of those places.
writing need not be published to have value.
i teach writing to students who hate writing and i think that’s funny. and i don’t tell them that they need to like writing.
i have enjoyed not blogging as much this year. but i’ve probably written more. i’ve almost finished my second journal of the year already.
writing helps me to cultivate my interior depth. and i’m learning to love this about myself more and more.
writing allows me to be petty or silly. or both.
writing reminds me not to take myself so seriously, and also to take myself seriously. writing can hold all that ambiguity.
writing is a companion through all the emotions.