Journaling is not new to me. Since my teen-age years, I have always made very good friends with a pen and a notebook. I always felt the urge to write what happens to me- whether they are sad or joyful didn't matter. A quick look at my high school journal reveals a lot of happy, delightful and jovial events, either with my hometown buddies or with my school friends. In college, there was not much time to write since I was a working student and college life, while very productive, was quite dull and boring. (The only colorful events are those leading to the First Quarter Storm.)
The years from 1976 were quite eventful, as they covered my life as a young married woman and later on, as a young mother. Early on, I deemed it necessary to write a journal since I had no one (literally) to run to when news, good or bad, had to be shared. One heartbreak after another, my life story unfolded in my journal. There were entries that made me smile ( like my descriptions of my little children while asleep) when I read them again. But there were many which made me teary eyed, no matter how long ago they transpired. Perhaps these were the same entries that made my daughter Timmy cry when she discovered that journal when she was still a young girl. While it broke my heart that she was affected at such a young age, I recognized the fact that sooner or later, I will have to tell her my story.
My story is about people, places, events, choices, regrets, pains and pleasures. I am very thankful of the many blessings I have been greatly showered by the Great Provider- blessings that helped me survive an otherwise difficult existence. It was easy to revisit those memories but when it comes to my regrets and pains, it was a different story altogether. One advantage of revisiting such memories, however, is that it puts me in a vantage point where I can be an observer of my own life, thus, I get new perspectives and I gather new messages. More than exploring my creative side, I am more interested in healing and exploring myself.
When a woman has experienced being shaken to the very core of her foundation by a set of circumstances she had no control of, she undergoes a degree of woundedness that needs to be healed. Writing one's story is a way back to sanity and sensibility; it is a mode of sorting through the conflicts and the pains alongside the delights and the bliss. I want to take this route a little further. I need to take this route a little further. For even if my life experiences have made me stronger, I doubt if they have made me better.
The years from 1976 were quite eventful, as they covered my life as a young married woman and later on, as a young mother. Early on, I deemed it necessary to write a journal since I had no one (literally) to run to when news, good or bad, had to be shared. One heartbreak after another, my life story unfolded in my journal. There were entries that made me smile ( like my descriptions of my little children while asleep) when I read them again. But there were many which made me teary eyed, no matter how long ago they transpired. Perhaps these were the same entries that made my daughter Timmy cry when she discovered that journal when she was still a young girl. While it broke my heart that she was affected at such a young age, I recognized the fact that sooner or later, I will have to tell her my story.
My story is about people, places, events, choices, regrets, pains and pleasures. I am very thankful of the many blessings I have been greatly showered by the Great Provider- blessings that helped me survive an otherwise difficult existence. It was easy to revisit those memories but when it comes to my regrets and pains, it was a different story altogether. One advantage of revisiting such memories, however, is that it puts me in a vantage point where I can be an observer of my own life, thus, I get new perspectives and I gather new messages. More than exploring my creative side, I am more interested in healing and exploring myself.
When a woman has experienced being shaken to the very core of her foundation by a set of circumstances she had no control of, she undergoes a degree of woundedness that needs to be healed. Writing one's story is a way back to sanity and sensibility; it is a mode of sorting through the conflicts and the pains alongside the delights and the bliss. I want to take this route a little further. I need to take this route a little further. For even if my life experiences have made me stronger, I doubt if they have made me better.
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