“Fill your paper with the breathings of your heart.” William Wordsworth
Back to the idea I had.
I usually rifle through my stack of loud journals around the first of each year. I often find them obnoxious and over-the-top dramatic, but when I succeed in silencing The Critic, I see my desire for honesty, growth, and truth. I see themes among the pages, based on events and people that I would have forgotten otherwise. I see the maturity I’ve gained, but conversely, I see myself continuing to wrestle with the same issues. I suffer the cliche journal writer’s fear of wondering whose eyes will see what I’ve committed to paper. Will old age or death surrender my journals to mockers and intellectual superiors?
Well, there I go being over-dramatic again. Most likely my future children and husband will be the only ones who read my journals. And because they love me they will add my sorrows to theirs, my successes to theirs; my eccentricities will be reckoned with their already nuanced and dear perception of me.
But what if I shared pieces from my journals right now? Excerpts that amuse, inspire or illuminate, not because the writer was brilliant or remarkable, but because she did it with all the sincerity of her being. She did it because since kindergarten writing was the only way of getting to all the pieces of herself. The only way to filter the world with honesty. A way to stay fully alive. A way to find God when my vision is dark.
I want you to know that I accept all your reasons for and experiences with writing, too. I’d love for you to share them. I think we will laugh a lot together about the things we’ve written. I created a Tumblr blog for readers of Spacious Pages to add their journal excerpts and musings. You can check it out at journalshare.tumblr.com. I really hope you do!