At age eleven a cousin gave me my first diary, bright pink with a little girl’s face on the cover, and a lock to ensure my secrets would be kept safe.
It didn’t seem like something that would change my life. But it did. I had a place to express my dreams, needs and angst. Words swimming in my mind, desperately needing a place to settle.
When I browse through my early diaries, I laugh and cry reliving my childhood, especially at age twelve when I became a stranger in a strange world, having moved from an orphanage in which I grew up to the outside world.
When you were young, did you hide in your room with pen or pencil and scrawl your exciting or painful experiences in a diary?
I now have two large drawers full of journals. During challenging shifts in my life I consumed days on the couch reading for hours, gleaning the causeways of my mind, grasping their inexplicable meanings, hopefully to discern some wisdom in the process.
Do you journal to express and release your soulful joy and angst?
Now and then I write with my non-dominant hand to remember the child within. An enlightening experience.
Writing is like therapy – a helpful tool to understand oneself, especially for me as I near the end of my memoir manuscript.
May the following words energize you to write.
I Write Because …
I want to inspire – myself and others.
Sometimes my spirit demands attention, and I sit with spirit and wait for the lessons of my soul.
Other times I write to release the tension of the day, as a meditation, to reconnect with spirit.
I write my history, in case I age in loss of memory.
I write for the delight of playing with my inner child; writing a fantasy of silly names and mysterious places, the world of lost dreams.
Frequently I write spontaneously, without thought, to see what is hidden behind my comfort zone.
I write to simply tell a story; share an idea; see how my mind functions, or what’s left of it after a hard day’s work.
In my journals I write letters to my mother, who died too young to express her thoughts.
I write for my father, now deceased, who worked too hard to find time to express himself.
I write poems for my spouse and friends, to share my experience of them, to see their smiles, to see their hearts open knowing they are loved.
So I guess I write for love – the love of laughter, the love of giving, the love of sharing.
Please don’t hesitate to comment or share your joy and experiences of writing.
2020 © Roberta S. Kuriloff
Beautiful post, Roberta – takes me back to reading in my childhood bedroom under the blankets and then writing on little slips of paper my ideas for stories!
Cathleen,
Thanks for sharing. Yes, it was fun writing under the blankets with a flashlight; so secretive as well as like camping.
Roberta
Roberta,
What you wrote is so very beautiful!
I used to write down my thoughts when feeling very stressed out, and it was very helpful for me to do so.
You have given me reasons to take up writing again, if only expressing a sentence or 2 every day.
Thanks so much!
You are such a beautiful person
Thanks for writing this beautiful essay!
You have provided me with reasons to write again, even if it is only one or 2 sentences per day.
(I used to write when I felt overwrought with emotional torment. And, I found the end result to be very helpful.)
Hi Nina,
How exciting to hear you will write again! Even a few words will edge you on to write. You express yourself so beautifully in your artwork. Be safe and well. Hugs from more than six feet away, Roberta
Thank you, Roberta.
Your upbeat attitude is simply marvelous!
Hugs to you, too, from 6 feet away.
Be safe.
Nina 🙂
You are a brilliant writer. I love all of the entries you have written so far and I look forward to reading more. I enjoy that I feel as though I can relate to you in many ways. I look forward to being able to read your book.
For me writing is my “safe space”. Much of my writing ,both my poems and my journal entries, come from the pain I feel inside. I can be free when I write. I don’t have to worry about what I say or how it’s said.
Writing is my peace.
Thanks Nicole. Yes, writing is peace. Love, Roberta