Eclectic Waters

Archive for March, 2007

to see Michael P. name on my comment list and to read his kind words. We dated for awhile in college and I appreciated his articulate and intense nature. He is a poet-writer. My friends, Chris and Ali, who moved to San Diego from Fresno are trying to convince him to come and visit us all. Return Chris’ message Mike – if you are reading this.

—–

I pondered my choice to give up journaling as I sat in the seminar. Spiritual Journaling by Dr. David Jeremiah. The benefits of journaling are true. It allows you to remember what God has done, to become more honest (I find it hard to lie when I write), to reflect on the meaning behind experiences, to record progress in one’s spiritual journey and to regain lost momentum (when you are discouraged you can be encouraged by brighter times in the past).

When I turned thirteen I began writing in my first journal. The journal before this one didn’t count. One, because it had dinosaurs on it and two, because I wrote six pages in it total. But when I was thirteen my life was about to change as my family moved back to the ship and my journal became my best friend. Literally.

I have a journal for each year from when I was thirteen to when I turned twenty. In the back of my closet there is a large silver chest with these journals. I can’t read them. They used to sit on my shelf, but too often I would find my fingers pulled to their pages and my emotions lost in events already passed. It hurt to read them.

I continued to journal through college and sporadically through teacher ed. But when I started teaching, it stopped, along with eating, exercising, sleeping through the night, resting… and of course, without these things, sanity reasoned my mind too boring and promptly left on vacation. It took me quite awhile before I could convince sanity to return, and even now I sometimes worry that he will decide to leave. But I make sure to keep his favorite companions close by and it is working.

The reason I stopped writing was because I did not see the purpose in it. It seemed pointless, like my life at that point. Why would I spend time choosing words and articulating myself when my life and I were a failure? My pen stopped…

In the last months I have thought about journaling, but it still felt pointless – and only recently have I begun to feel the pull of creating a secret place within the pages of a journal. The truth has set my pen free…

My journal has purpose because it is capturing my life – I have value because I am chosen – by God – His servant and more importantly -

His Child.
The purpose of expressing me is enough.

Pleasure is very seldom found where it is sought. Our brightest blazes are commonly kindled by unexpected sparks.

—

His face pressed close to the fence as he tried to squeeze his fingers between the wooden boards.

“Is it the puppy?” I asked.

He looked up. A huge smile with two eyes. “Yes!

“He’s so cute.”

Our neighbors dog has had a puppy. My apartment neighbor, five years old, sat hunched next to the fence as if he were fishing for a golden trout with his fingers. His red shirt vibrant against the old fence.

I stare into the mirror as my jawline turns to mercury and merges into its still surface. My eyes begin scanning the surface my eyes and nose are now floating in. Undefined.
Somedays I forget who I am.

My cameleon skin looks crazy in the disco light. Some days I cannot pull myself from the vortex of information swirling around my head. Work. Projects. Friends. Stay in touch. Make new ones. Family. Responsibilty. Thoughts. Questions. Growing. Stuck. Pushing. Trees. Music. Conversations. Buildings. Driving. Talking. Couches.

I imagine my mind, it is a horse breaking free. I run after it. Come back! She does not turn or slow down. The dust settles.
In college I often became drenched from soul diving, listening to understand the heartbeats around me. When the sound of my own became indistinguisable, I entered the night. Cutting through the air on my rollerblades or singing in an isolated place, I sought to seek the lost: My voice. My opinions. My shape. My Beauty.