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And besides, I write better then I speak. I have time to think what I want to say when I write. When I speak, I tend to be either intimidated and silent as I try to think about what to say or opinionated and abrasive if it's one of my hot buttons...not necessarily good.
While at the retreat with Carol Lynn Pearson we talked about keeping the things we learned from the church we were raised in that we loved and tossing what no longer resonates with us. One of the things I definitely learned at church was keeping a journal and it's definitely not being tossed.
I've been keeping journals since 1975 and blogs since 2004. They are random and silly and not important to anyone but me. They have made the trek through the past thirty plus moves over my crazy gypsy life. While I clean out my closets mercilessly for the next move, the journals never get cleaned out. They are just stuffed in a box that follows me wherever I go. I don't know what that says about me, but it says something. I even have journals I've kept about my children for a while hoping they would adopt the practice but they didn't keep it up.
I have about 20 blogs of miscellaneous sorts, poems, short stories, essays, miscellaneous blog posts of my life. It's fun to go back and read them because I don't remember much and then I get to remember these amazing days and experiences...that didn't seem amazing at the time, but they totally were!
For instance, almost 10 years ago I wrote the below posts, one in 2006 and the other in 2007 before my first marriage ended. Back story: I had issues with my hair, I always cut it myself. I would never let anyone touch it. I literally have never cut my own hair again after I met Carola:
December 21, 2006 I have this ridiculous wild hair. And I have control issues. The two do not go together well. When I feel the least in control of my life, I cut my hair, myself. Very bad. But I don't trust anyone else to cut it, control issues, after all. So it goes from bad to worse as I try and fix the cut that I tried to control in the first place. It is in the middle of the night and I am cutting my hair...says a lot about my state of mind right now. I've come along way though...I still do it, but at least I recognize the dysfunctional behavior...that has to count for something. I did actually stop myself before I went too short...at least tonight anyways. Yes, my state of mind...confusion for the most part. I'm trying to imagine myself just letting the worms go (referring to a dream I had about opening a can of worms and losing control of them as they took over my life but I worked tirelessly and pointlessly at sweeping them up)...stop sweeping, let them go where they want to go. I don't have to clean them up...do I?
May 24, 2007 I also actually got my hair cut while I was down there (on vacation in Oceanside)...it was a big deal for me to walk into a strange place and have a perfect stranger cut my hair. I'm facing my fears. I did it and she did a good job. Actually, I adored her. She was from Sweden and (she) could tell just by looking at me that I was Swedish (my mother is a full Swede) so she couldn't stop talking about it. She had a cute accent and acted like my very best friend...made the whole experience very positive. I wish I could have brought her home with me so I could keep her as a friend and for my future hair cuts. Maybe I'll go back to see her next year.The rest of the story: I did go back to her the next year, and then I moved here in 2009 after my divorce (I let the worms go where they needed to go) and she has been cutting and highlighting my hair four times a year for the last ten years...and she is now my very sweet friend who probably knows more about me than anyone since it takes about 2 or 3 hours to do my hair and I tend to verbally vomit when someone takes an interest in what I have to say. She has followed me through my divorce, dating after 23 years of marriage, remarrying, leaving the LDS church, as well as various dramas with my four gypsy children. The picture is us at Paint Nite a couple recently. She said to me when she came in, "Your hair looks great!" And of course I replied, "Thank you, I have the BEST hair stylist!" She is also my very own hair therapist. It's fascinating to revisit your own growth in life. I love my journals.
