I’ve never been afraid of a blank page. It’s really more like a mirror to me, a place to sit and breathe and shed the daily lint collected in my mind… then look deep into the clearness of my reflection and write what I see. This has been my daily ritual for months now — tucking the girls in for their naps, relishing an after-lunch espresso and “Scrubs” with Dan, and then settling into that quiet part of my heart where words happen. Coffee-stained clarity.
I’ve stayed away from blank pages the last few days, though, quite suddenly caught in a tangle of insecurity. Maybe it’s my old journal entries that I pulled out over the weekend–my teenage patheticness slamming into me like an anvil. Maybe it’s the remark from a friend that made me feel guilty for being so self-absorbed. Maybe it’s the six or seven hours of sleep each night when my body actually needs fourteen.
I’m back on my computer this afternoon, tentatively, and only because when I listed my reasons for not writing anymore (I’m pathetic, I have nothing valuable to say, and no one wants to hear more about me anyway), Dan simply said, “I do.”* Well actually, that’s not the only reason. It was just the catalyst. The other reason is my daughters. I want them to be able to read my thoughts, years from now, and understand who their mom was, is. I think if I had gotten that opportunity with my mother, many unfortunate circumstances would have turned out differently. I intend never to take communication with my precious girls for granted, and I see writing about myself now as one way to protect our futures.
So. Up yours, insecurity! And even though I now want to apologize for saying “up yours,” I won’t, because confidence is valuable. Believing in my own motivations is valuable. Even embracing my inner pathetic teenager is valuable.** (Yes, yes it is.) So stay tuned, because my blank-page, espresso-scented séances are far from over.
*No, I won’t share him with you.
**At least in the sense that you will soon get to read VERY DRAMATIC excerpts from my fourteen-year-old tragic love saga, as chronicled in no less than five journals. Look for Mortification Mondays, coming to a blog near you!
Baha! The “up yours” made me laugh out loud. And I am on the edge of my seat with anticipation for the rest of it! 😀
Thar ya go! Oh…by the way, I do have 3 single brothers, and 6 single brother-in-law’s for anyone interested. =]
I see so much of myself reflected in what you write here, and I am so grateful to you for articulating what it is I can’t say. I’ve been feeling this way all day, partially because I only got three hours of sleep last night, but partially because I was just feeling uninspired to bring myself to a blank page. Thanks for inspiring me to just go DO it 🙂
I WANT TO HEAR MORE ABOUT YOU TOO!!! I think the same way and make the same comments to my friends. But I’ve learned from their reactions, from their continued dedicated reading, that somehow people do care.
The same way I told my mother I wish that SHE had a blog because I want to see that side of her. Your children are so very lucky, and I know someday your gift of journaling will mean everything to them.
Thanks so much for this!
Correction Dan: 6 single brother-in-law, but only 5 available. But thanks for the kind gesture. 🙂
I am so inspired by this post, I have read it over and over. Leaving ‘you’ for your girls to read in the future is a wonderful idea- go for it, do it, you won’t regret it!
If I may, I will ‘borrow’ your idea and write for my children too- there is so much I want to share with them, when they are ready. I would have understood my mother so much more, I’m sure, if only….
Your confidence is so infectious- thank you for sharing!! I’m looking forward to Monday readings now….:)
Lizardek – I wouldn’t sit too close to the edge of your seat if I were you… Come Monday, you may just find yourself falling off. Yes, it will be THAT AMAZING.
Daniel – Should we mention that 5 of those options are underage? Like, most-still-in-elementary-school underage? On second though, nah, this could get interesting!
Frankie – It’s funny to think of journaling as a gift since it’s just writing my thoughts–no intricate plot lines, no villains, nothing unusually compelling. But I think you’re right in the sense that this will be a gift to my children, and that is definitely worth holding onto.
Jesse – Is this your way of telling us something, mmm?
Bella – Please do borrow the idea! It isn’t original to me in any way, but I love the thought that generations-old relationship fractures may finally be patched simply by writing. I’m sure your children will treasure your words!