March 24, 2012 § 24 Comments
It was the best of days. It was the worst of days.
And then that same evening, despite several “sandwich generation” phone calls of things gone afoul and amiss and staring down several hours of work to create a compelling PPT (an oxymoron, non?), I found myself sitting in Journaling class, pen poised, journal open to blank page (there are a lot of them) and listening.
I listened to the class leader share books on journaling and read excerpts from several of them. I listened to fellow journalers (normally an introverted lot) talk about what they were writing and why. I listened to one of them discuss healing through writing and another talk about presenting personal stories in wraps and scraps and books that would make others want to pick them up and read them.
I did a lot of listening and it was a balm. To be a good listener is as rich as to be a good teller.
Then I went home and wrote four pages. Four pages of nothing. But the stress dripped away and answers to some questions emerged. I know I can’t blog AND journal AND freelance. Well, I could, but in the interest of our family, my job and keeping the house clean and livable, um, it’s a stretch.
Nevertheless, maybe, just maybe, I’m back in the writing game.