Earlier today I was telling my friend about a process I call “angry journaling.” The premise is simple. When I get overly frustrated with a person, situation or life in general, I give myself permission to write freely. This means using large, bold fonts, scribbles, cursing.
I understand that for some people, this may be normal journaling. And I understand that journaling should always feel/be free – no permission is necessary.
So, why do I feel the need to give myself permission to be angry? Why do I edit myself….especially when I may be the only person to read any of my writing?
At least in part, this is what my culture has taught me. Or how I have interpreted events and conversations in my life.
Speak [politically] correct.
Keep your temper.
Put others before yourself
None of this is bad… but I take it too far and tend to repress anything that seems negative. And sometimes, that negativity needs an outlet.
This weekend was Via Colori – a street art festival in downtown Houston. Lots of chalk, good people, good, food, good, music and chalk. Saturday I volunteered – doing a very small part in helping this huge production happen. For a small taste of what I enjoyed on the second day of the festival…..
Also there was music..
The Gents and Kronika.
And all of it was good, fall, creative fun. PLUS it was all to benefit The Center for Hearing and Speech. That’s right – awesome art for a cause!!
Also, for the four people who read this blog, be looking forward to some more thoughts on art and creativity in the near future.
Music by Sia or Shawn McDonald
The blog posts by Your Other Brothers
The BlackLivesMatter movement
X-Men First Class
At first (or even fifth) glance, these things have nothing in common. And maybe that’s true for most people. But for me, they have something deeply in common.
In each of these, I see meaningful, authentic dreams being lived out. Creatively, actively sharing stories, songs, lives that need to be shared. Not caring about the political correctness, the “right” way to share these stories – just knowing, caring, believing that they are worth sharing, worth dreaming, worth fighting for.
Recently I’ve been realizing that while I can notice this around me, I still haven’t figured it out (or even a starting point) within me. I don’t know what story needs to be told. Or how I would go about telling it. Or what dreams are stirring in my head and heart.
There is more to say – I can feel it. But I cannot put words to it.
A fellow blogger is blogging EVERY day for the month of November. I am NOT going to try this. But it has got my mind thinking.
- Why do I take time to blog? (on the rare instances I do…..)
- What stops me from blogging more often?
- Do I have anything worth saying, writing?
- Does that matter if it is good for me??
In a recent post, he wrote:
“Without connection, addiction wins. Without confession, secrets fester.
Without love, indifference wins the day.”
Bah. So much I could say about this. So, I’ll try.
Connection – this is what I’ve been seeking over the last month(s). I spent the last year living in 900 sq ft with 7 other people – CLOSE QUARTERS. But we learned to love each other and share space and enjoy life. Since that community has disbanded, I find myself seeking ways to connect with people. Whether this is church or Skype or on the internet or via Skype/phone calls – I need people. And it’s true, without these people, it is easy for addiction to win – addiction to food, sloth, negative thoughts…..
Love – one of my least favorite topics… but it comes up all the time (we can unpack that in another post). But how true? The days and moments that I didn’t love, didn’t feel loved – are those that seem the most MEH. Apathy is easy… and disappointing. Love is tough…but rewarding, even if it’s small.
Is writing a way for me to connect? Maybe. Maybe not. I will continue to seek.
And with God’s help, I will continue to try and love and be loved.