Wild-Eyed and Crazy
Life is not easy. Nor is it static. Like the ocean, Life seems to roll through in continuous sets, with a brief pause of calm before yet another set thunders through our lives. When we think we’ve finally got it, finally found our center and flow, when everything is in balance and we can sit back and enjoy the scenery, in comes yet another set of waves to pummel and humble.
It has taken decades for me to realize that there is no arrival point where I will finally perfect the art of everyday balance, sit back and bask in all of my accomplishments and blessings, and smooth out the perpetual crease in my thinking forehead.
This is why I write. Instead of getting swept up, I use my journal to ride the waves—let them roll under me and bring me back to my shore.
The practice of writing is a practice we come to so we can clear a space to catch our breath, relieve our minds, and nurture our spirits. Journaling is a form of meditation—the pen is the breath following the rise and fall of thoughts as they roll through like the waves of the ocean. We harness the thoughts on paper so we can let them go, making space for clarity and relieving our minds of the incessant whirl and swirl of thinking.
The miracle is not to fly in the air, or to walk on the water, but to walk on the earth. -Chinese Proverb
Earlier this week, I was wild-eyed and crazy with thoughts ricocheting against my brain. I was swept up in the current, unable to get to my journal to organize the mayhem that was my to-do list. I had too much to do—taking care of my precious and young children with deadlines approaching, new classes to teach, this newsletter to write, commitments to others, in-laws coming into town, birthday parties to plan, and an increasingly messy house, not to mention frustration with myself for not being able to handle it all with grace and calm.
I carried this stress in my thousand-pound head until I finally sat down and began the process of unraveling the tightly wound ball of thoughts. It was like opening the lid on a pressure-cooker. After about 20 minutes, I could think clearly again. I could organize my thoughts and see that I was doing the best that I could, and in that spirit, everything would be done in its own time.
This is one reason why I write. I also write to feed my highest aspirations with visions so that I can create a life that is meant for me, emanating from the song of my soul. I write to hold on and remember as life ceaselessly flows. I write to listen, as an act of love and respect for myself.
If you are curious about the simple, yet profound practice of writing in a journal, or want to deepen your writing practice, I invite you to check out the upcoming workshops in the Zen Adventure Treehouse, including The Art of Life: Journaling as a Wellness Practice; Dreamkeepers: Writing and the Art of Creative Visualization; and The History of Us: Journaling to our Children.
I also invite you to check out my blog at www.ourlivesourstories.com/blog. Every Friday, I post some little (and often not so little) tidbit on Life and Writing for some inspiration and soul food.
I hope to meet or hear from you soon. Until then, be well, be blessed, and be you.