Finding Myself Again?
It's strange for me to think about the possibility that I need to "find" myself again. How did I lose myself, one may wonder? Well, it's less of losing myself and more of not taking enough time for myself away from books, my computer, music and even people. I realized the other day that I need to write more. In fact, I have done hardly any writing since I moved last November. Writing has always been the catharsis for my moodiness when it hits. It is the tool I use to dig out the negative feelings I have and channel them into words. Sometimes these words makes it onto one of my three blogs, and sometimes it stays unseen on my computer or gets discarded on a scratch piece of paper. I never really thought of myself as a prolific writer, but I've always acknowledged the importance of writing in my life.
I'm not the world's greatest writer, nor do I think I'm God's gift to words. However, I know that when I write I can put words to thoughts, feelings and impressions better than if I tried to express them verbally. I've always wondered about why it's been easier for me to write my emotions than to speak them. Sometimes when I'm writing a short story or a poem, I remove those feelings from my heart and mind to prepare to let go of them. Of late, I've noticed that I've held onto a lot of emotions that usually don't bog me down. Most of the things I've held onto are really stupid things that I should never have entertained in the first place but festers each time my thoughts brush against them.
In my years in Hawaii, I discovered the importance of going through my emotional layers and scrubbing away those emotions and ideas that hurt my soul. It was something of a weekly routine of mine to run on the beach and digging in myself for those things that drug me down during the day or week and to go home and proceed to write about them. Some days I wrote more than other days, but for the most part, the act of writing helped me purge myself of the parts of me that weren't good. I still run now, but I spend less time analyzing myself and more time mindlessly running to the beat of the music blaring in my ears. Music isn't bad, but it keeps me from taking time to pamper myself and work toward being a better person.
This post is my first step toward taking time to healing the hurt on my soul from the stupid, negative ideas and emotions I allow into my heart and mind.
I'm not the world's greatest writer, nor do I think I'm God's gift to words. However, I know that when I write I can put words to thoughts, feelings and impressions better than if I tried to express them verbally. I've always wondered about why it's been easier for me to write my emotions than to speak them. Sometimes when I'm writing a short story or a poem, I remove those feelings from my heart and mind to prepare to let go of them. Of late, I've noticed that I've held onto a lot of emotions that usually don't bog me down. Most of the things I've held onto are really stupid things that I should never have entertained in the first place but festers each time my thoughts brush against them.
In my years in Hawaii, I discovered the importance of going through my emotional layers and scrubbing away those emotions and ideas that hurt my soul. It was something of a weekly routine of mine to run on the beach and digging in myself for those things that drug me down during the day or week and to go home and proceed to write about them. Some days I wrote more than other days, but for the most part, the act of writing helped me purge myself of the parts of me that weren't good. I still run now, but I spend less time analyzing myself and more time mindlessly running to the beat of the music blaring in my ears. Music isn't bad, but it keeps me from taking time to pamper myself and work toward being a better person.
This post is my first step toward taking time to healing the hurt on my soul from the stupid, negative ideas and emotions I allow into my heart and mind.
posted by Amanda/Mandie at
6/02/2007 05:14:00 AM
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