A part of my routine includes writing a journal.
Paper & fountain pen.
It’s my way of tending to the garden of my mind, which tends to be overgrown with weeds.
The weeds grow pretty quickly, nurtured & watered by the emotions of the day.
Writing is how I remove the weeds from one small area of the mind.
I write in whatever notebooks I find lying around, usually cheap notebooks that we buy for the kids.
For last decade or so, I’ve not thrown them out with the garbage.
|$0.10 each when blank.|
I picked one of them at random this morning, & it turned out to be from 2014, March.
I don’t know about you, dear reader, but I can’t remember what I had for lunch yesterday. It’s impossible to remember what I was thinking and feeling and worried about 6 years ago. Using a journal to time-travel (or space travel) is a little bit of my idea of fun. Also why I enjoy reading.
There was no entry dated 7 March, but there was one for the 5th, made in the evening. I’d not discovered the treasure trove of learning how to use the writing tools well, so my handwriting is barely legible.
For a little context, it was a time of upheaval at work with the usual restructures et al.
I had my desk in a corner of the basement garage.
Another day passes him by. A day full of pretend business and busy-ness. Meetings. Passing paper around. Or e-paper. Practising politics. Pretending things are more important than they really are.
But lest this become all doom and gloom, he discovered a blog by a Sydneysider, “Life and other crises”, by Kerri Sackville. An entertaining writer no doubt, but it was her secret self-help tool that inspired the writing style in this 3rd person today. He wants to see if this is useful or merely a passing curiosity.
The Toastmasters contest needed more contestants in this speech evaluation, so he decided he would take part. He was disqualified on time grounds, but had fun nonetheless. Imagery was widely used by all the speakers throughout. It was as if each took some random color & threw it on to the grey matter in everyone’s brain & magically created a masterpiece in each one of the audience’s minds.
He witnessed another master communication in action, the CEO, & the fear in the MD’s eyes & body during a “meet-the-folks-who-pay-my-lifestyle” meeting. People pretend they are uncaring about the whole affair, while each one, internally, is terrified of the changes that will shortly be unleashed.
His wife was here, inviting him back into real life, so head upstairs he will. And must.