As a kid, the things that worried me were pretty funny. I was terrified of being dragged away by possums or murdered by katydids, and refused to set foot on the driveway after it had rained and all the worms had crawled out and dried up on the pavement, which was exasperating to my mother but that’s all pretty rational, I think. My favorite animals were crocodiles, then snails, then ducks and otters. I thought maybe if I looked around all the tiny bluet patches dotting my grandparents’ yard, or hung out long enough behind the rhododendron bush at my home, that maybe, just maybe, I’d run into a real fairy. Again, rational enough. I like to write down these random details sometimes so that I can hold onto that childhood magic, because it’s really something I never want to forget. There are millions of details in even just a couple decades of life, and it’s so magical to remember tiny ones you had lost for a while.
On the occasions when I journal, I feel like a weird private songwriter, expanding on the most minute experiences. Sometimes it’s fun to write out detailed accounts of very specific memories to give them a more concrete quality, but sometimes the raw feelings just stick better in your brain when you don’t try to translate them from abstract thought-language. That’s kind of why I feel a little out of place writing on this blog sometimes; if you were to analyze my private journal/blog it started out very straightforward and journal-y and quickly devolved into mostly vague poetry over the years, but it’s funny that I can remember exactly what I was feeling and referencing in even the most seemingly random lines while I feel more detached from the literal accounts.
Just some thoughts. Can anyone relate? I feel so emo saying I journal better in poetry but I feel like if you’re the creative writing/diary-keeping type and you’ve tried it, you can probably relate 100%. I really think abstract creative writing is closer to how our thoughts work, because somehow things tend to get lost in translation when I try to put deep emotions or experiences on paper in plain language. Maybe that’s why music is such a powerful thing for most people; pithy lyrics can hit home harder than long, explicit essays because you tend to automatically read between the lines in the way that you best connect, filtering them through your own context. I think poetry tends to get a bad rap as a weird or overly dramatic outlet, but if you consider the fact that mostly everyone likes to listen to music, I think poetry is the opposite of weird. It’s completely normal.
Once again I’m not overly sure where I was going with this little post, aside from more personal encouragement: be creative. Express yourself in a variety of outlets just for fun. You don’t have to share what you create, or you can if you want to. But don’t let the potential opinions and reactions or non-reactions of others stifle you. And maybe rethink your own reaction the next time you find yourself rolling your eyes at another person’s personal creative expression. Remember the little details about who you were as a kid, when you weren’t concerned about what the world thought. It’s very freeing when you make the decision to not worry about likes or views, to just make things that make you happy. Easier said than done, I know.
Happy Thursday, wherever you are, and remember: you create your reality, for better or for worse.