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  • Writer's pictureRay Watters

Journal...

Starlings darting in and out of the Ash and the Oak and across roof tops this campervan morning. A relative Sunday suburban silence sits on gardens and houses. The birds are busy, four blue tits scavenge on a berry bush of some description, two crows flop slowly into the top of the Oak. Sounds of wood pigeon, cockerel, far off ducks, a single magpie and other birds fill the air. It’s busy this morning. The sky is a solid white mass sitting apparently motionless above my head. The occasional sound of a passing plane hidden to the eye passing over. It’s quite warm for mid November, the trees are still pretty full of leaves of varying shades, though the Ash and Oak tend to be the last to drop. Those of you that know me, know I am a bit of a journalist, as in journaling rather than making up news. These morning conversations are part of that journaling process. Maria Popov writes that it is :


“ A practice that teaches us better than any other the elusive art of solitude, how to be present with our own selves, bear witness to our experience, and fully inhabit our inner lives.”


I have kept a journal on and off for the last 15 or so years, but I have fallen off the ladder so to speak and needed some inspiration to get back to it. I am also once again stealing from Popov’s exploration of this topic when she quotes the writer Susan Sontag :


“ The journal is a vehicle for my sense of selfhood. It represents me as emotionally and spiritually independent. Therefore (alas) it does not simply record my actual, daily life but rather — in many cases — offers an alternative to it.”


So the last few days of searching for inspiration as seen me tapping into the works of Anais Nin ( Again ), Woolf, Emerson and Thoreau to name but a few.


Also creating the discipline and the time to return to it, but that’s another topic for another day. Today is self care Sunday so make sure you do something for you today. Lovely days people.


I have used this quote before, but if feels just a relevant now as then.


“ There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.” Maya Angelou



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