On Writing.
I started writing, capturing my thoughts on paper, when I was a teenager. Not sure if it was merely a place to hold teenage angst. Or if I even had any? Not in a Dear Diary kind of way ... just... I liked to write. So I did. The act of writing has held a space for me ... whether I was a happy, neutral or sad; mildly upset, clear or confused; amused, angry, or very angry…writing…became a refuge, a sanctuary, a creation portal, and a time capsule.
My journals have provided a space for my random musings, my thoughts, my memories, my heartbreaks, my processing - a place to figure things out, and my ahas (remember when that was a thing??). They became a repository for quotes that I like or ... ones that made me think, a safe space for my rage, and my vents about some injustice or perceived unfairness that were not, in my opinion, acceptable for public consumption.
My secrets? Well, no...those reside in my mind.
Writing has been a constant, and my friends, and most people ... if they know me any at all, realize gifting me a journal is a safe bet. Consequently, I have been gifted several beautiful journals over the years and I have several blank pages to fill. Recently someone gifted me with a E-ink writing tablet, which is beyond amazing. I absolutely love it. And which I imagine was in a bid to save trees and obviously to conserve on the space all my journals take up.
I don’t sit down and re-read my writings once I’ve dumped or processed or whatever. If I need to reference something then I might go back and look and sometimes it’s just fascinating to see how I have grown or not, and then identify where am I stuck, and what can I do about that?
How did we get here?
A very long time ago, while I was agonizing over what to do with my life, someone asked me what do I like to do?
My answer was: I like to read.
The response: So write.
Like duh! (with accompanying eye roll), why didn’t I think of that?
Writing, as something to do, made absolutely no sense to me the first time I heard it. As an answer, it seemed … too simple. Yet... the reality is ... it is literally the one thing I do every single day. Effortlessly.
Over the years, my friends have encouraged me to write.
And then recently, this space was born and all that was required was for me to be brave. So here we are…
Being brave.
Welcome to my world.
A collection of random musings, thoughts, reflections, memories, and things that have made me go hmmmm, over the years.
Happy you’re here. Let’s see what unfolds.
XO
Nicole-Anne