unknown.

spend a morning in the wilderness,

the mind.

your journal can get you there.

the wilderness,

where first is revealed  

the dense and chaotic terrain

that threatens to lose you to your feelings.

tangled and constricting feelings are vines squeezed between your lips

around your ankles

binding you still

suffocating you quiet.

wild writing upsets the stillness

rattles the quiet 

wreaks injurious blows into the familiar.

makes you flail for a gulp of air

for loudness to rush wind through your throat

a burst of bravery

breaking you from your past

the familiar knowledge of the past has controlled you

the familiar past, a protector of harm

has kept you safe from being able to grow wild

or daring

or free.

 

so go there

with a pen

into

the unknown

and write yourself wild

again.

——–unknown

I’m clicking away at another book.

About journaling. It’s been my morning thing. For years. Through many cities, jobs, dates, lovers, goals–I’ve written it all down in mini capsules. My journals.

The wisest advice has come to me through journaling, because, seriously, there exists some sage that shows up on the page. She directs my hard-head to let go of old sh#t and dares me to step hard right on up to life’s counter to take what I’m worth. She, the voice, also listens to me ruminate over and over and over about the same ole worn-out story, till she can’t take it anymore. What better-a-friend than she?

Have you got one? A journal. Any kind of bound paper thingy will do. Just start. Same time of day or night, 5-7 days a week. Twenty+ minutes.

Write your dreams, your doubts, your highs, your trials, your irritations, your storms, your possibilities, your realness.

After just 30 days of journaling, notice how it rattles your tamed mind, makes you ask wild questions of yourself, tells you what you’ve been dying to know, stirs you to cut the vines away from your throat so you can breathe.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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