I didn’t get a chance to write my journal pages this morning. I woke up thinking about a scene that I had trouble with yesterday and figured I’d better get down on paper what came from my subconscious before it evaporated. Usually in the mornings, I will get a cup of coffee and sit with a spiral notebook and just start writing. I’ve done this morning journaling since I read Julia Cameron’s The Artist Way. “Morning pages” she calls them.
The things I write in those pages are monotonous but sometimes enlightening. One thing I try to do is to jot down my feelings at the moment, physical, mental, emotional and spiritual feelings. That’s what I am, you know, a person with all those feelings. The trouble with me is that a lot of times I can’t identify them. I don’t have a lot of trouble understand what is going on with me physically; if my head hurts or my feet are cold, I know it. But if my emotional feelings are hurt, I have the habit of denying them. Sometimes, I hide from the idea that I feel disconnected from God. Sometimes I hide from everything, isolate and zone out so much that I don’t know what’s going on. It takes a lot of work to become self-aware.
Lately, I’d say for nearly a month now, I have been writing daily planned to-do lists in my journals. Over the weekend, I read about three weeks worth of posts and realized that my plans and intentions are being written, yet, I’m not acting on them. I have been getting lost in the day, filling my time with writing on my novel, eating, and watching TV. After reading those posts, I realized something. I have been adjusting to a new way of life and I’m not so sure of the way.
Over the course of the month, I have had too many headaches, and a childish need for approval from too many people. I have worried what people think of me. I have isolated. I have sat in front of my TV and munched on unhealthy snacks. I have made plans to go to the library to write so I could be around people, to go to the recreation center to workout, to call friends and just have a long conversation, yet those things haven’t happened as much as I would like. I believe this is called a codependent slip, indulging in unhealthy patterns as a way of coping with my present unknown.
So yesterday in my journal, I decided to stop planning on things that I don’t seem to be doing anyway. I decided to write some of my beliefs as I really know them. Here’s what I wrote: I am a spiritual as well as a physical being. I believe in God, and I have doubts that Jesus is the only way to get to God. I know that I can write and that it is a wonderful gift. I believe that words are holy and powerful things. I believe that I will be ok.
Have a great day!
Love,
Karen
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