How many times have I thought about this place, considered its purpose, its import to me, and to you. How many sentences I’ve started, how many topics touched on. How many more have I thought of, rolled around in my mind only to let them dissipate like a clearing fog. There are so many things I want to share, but my temperament and aptitude prohibit me from offering anything less than what I deem perfect, despite the fact that when I finally do, it is. This is a journal, yet one that has been cultivated, curated, and curtailed to fit an ideal, or at least to be pushed in a direction. Yet it is still just a journal, and my beliefs, my ideals and values bleed into every word published. It is my journal.
I want to share everything. Every thought and occurrence that effects me starts a train of thought that so often, at first, seems to share a thread with the profound, as if I pulled on it gently enough, it might help unravel those nagging thoughts and feelings that lie just beyond reach of my average comprehension. Those thoughts and ideas that are the most important. So many of these thoughts are recorded in fits and starts, notes on a page, words typed hectically late in the night, all only to be discarded or abandoned with the next days light and loss of importance.
I want to share, to connect, yet I don’t want to be known, or I’m afraid of being found out. This wouldn’t really be an issue if this journal wasn’t what it is, a deeply personal and very public space. I want to tell you what I think, feel, hope and believe, yet I’m afraid of letting myself down, because, after all, it’ll never be perfect and no matter how hard I try I know I’ll end up being misunderstood. So whats the point?
The point is to get better at understanding myself, you, our world, and our place in it. There are other ways, I know and believe this, but I also know that using language, arranging thoughts and words in an understanding way has been one of the most powerful and helpful tools for self-growth, understanding, and transformation in my life. The point is that it’s not a speech, it’s a conversation, and just because the word was said, or written, doesn’t make it true, or more accurately, doesn’t make it absolute.
This last year has been one of oscillation and transformation. Ups and downs, highs and lows. It has been one of the best and one of the worst, one of the happiest and one of the saddest, and how could I possibly capture all that, let alone share it with you in a way that lets you know just how powerful, difficult, and fun it’s been? How can I give you a glimpse of my life without opening myself completely, without becoming wholly vulnerable to your understanding and judgement, to let you know that I’m struggling, but okay?
The truth is, I don’t think I can. This is a journal, it is mine, but it’s yours to read, yours to imbibe and appreciate in your own way, to take from it what you may. I hesitate to call it art, but in some ways, that’s a helpful perspective. For if I was to be drawing and publishing an illustrated journal entry, certainly you could very well view and apprehend it all in a much different way than I intended, much how drawings and paintings are interpreted by the audience in an array of ways. My words are no different, and despite the time and effort, or lack thereof, that I may put into them, I have to understand that they will likely very often be misinterpreted and confused. Likewise, I have to hope that your participation in this journal may help me see aspects of myself, and my life, that I may be missing, or worse yet, suppressing.
This last bit is the most important, or at least the most powerful. For writing and correlating my words is helpful to my piece of mind and sense of self, but it’s the conversation, the shared perspective that offers the most potential for growth, of both self and other.
This piece has been brooding for a while, in so many different forms, with so many different titles and different trains of thought, but I feel accomplished in getting part of it out. And now that I have, do I feel content, did I succeed in imparting the message or emotions I had hoped? Never completely of course, but that said, looking back over this piece, what does it say to me and what did I hope to say to you? Well, it says to me that I’ve been up to some shit and not had the time or aptitude to share it all with you, at least not in a way that I can be proud of, or that does it, myself, or you any justice, or service. It tells me that if I want to share and converse more freely, I should work on being more habitual, and open, and less demanding and judgmental of myself, and the world around me. I wanted to tell you that as the reader of this journal, there’s always going to be more to the picture, more going on behind the scenes, because after all, opening myself up in this space is much like cutting off my pinky and asking you to tell me what kind of person I look like.
It’s a process, a conversation, and despite the fact that I will often make an effort to be well put together or adhere to an ideal previously set forth, remember that there’s a lot going on behind the scenes, a whole life actually. But my intention isn’t to hide that, it’s not to put up a front or pretend I’ve got it figured out, only to make a serious and calculated attempt to understand myself, this world, my place, purpose, and potential.
That’s what I wanted to get out anyway, and even just in telling you that, I feel content with my effort. But more importantly, what does it say to you? What do you read and take away? Something more, I hope.
Thanks for reading.