Recapturing that lost childhood trait of not giving a damn


If last year was the year of big changes in my life (new job, new home, new relationship status), this year was supposed to be the year of settling down, of nesting, of enjoying that new job, new home, and new relationship status. And in many ways, I have been doing just that, even though it is all a work in progress.

In that spirit, one of the things I wanted to do this year was get back into journaling. And I mean real journaling, not logging onto Facebook and answering the question “What’s on your mind?” for all the world to see and not sending a tweet on Twitter chronicling my every move and thought. I mean writing something very personal that is of substance that for the time being, only my eyes will see.

So in the spirit of hopping back onto the Journal Train, I went out and bought a nice new journal and a decent set of pens to help me get back into the groove. The problem is, I haven’t figured out how or where to start. It seems all these years of not putting a physical pen to paper for my own personal pleasure has paralyzed me with fear. Fear of making mistakes, fear of wanting that first entry to truly be something worthwhile, even if for my eyes only. Fear of realizing my life probably isn’t as exciting as I was hoping it would be. Fear of not making a grand enough entry.

This isn’t a case of writer’s block (although from time to time I struggle with that too). It’s more of a case of, “look at this nice, new journal and this crisp blank page…if I’m going to spoil this page, it better be spoiled the right way with the right content…and in neat handwriting!” I know, I’m setting myself up for failure, but I can’t help it! I mean, who can live up to such expectations?

This paralysis has got me thinking back to my childhood when I wasn’t worried about making mistakes and would dive into a blank coloring book and color the hell out of those pages with abandon. What happened to me all these years? Where did that self confidence go? When did I suddenly become so damn self-conscious? No one is going to read my journals.

Deep questions requiring deep answers, I know. Hmmm…maybe I should journal about that?


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