The Words We Leave Behind: What NOT to Throw Away

All changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy;

for what we leave behind us is a part of ourselves;

we must die to one life before we can enter another.

~ Anatole France

June is the FLX/WordCount Blogathon!  Join us for 30 Days of blogging madness!

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hat do we leave behind us?

Specifically, what words do we leave behind?

Peggy Rosenthal has a thoughtful post over at Image Journal about aging, accumulating “stuff” and old journals and letters.

Reading about the tearing and ripping apart of old journals and throwing them out to be burned made me want to cry. 

On the one hand, I understand where she’s coming from: make things easier for the kids once she and her husband are gone; less to throw out.  It’s a charitable act, really.  No one should have to go through all that when they’re in the throes of grief.

Or should they?

What We Leave Behind Isn’t Just Junk

My mother could star in an episode of Hoarders, a show she watches avidly, proclaiming: “How awful!  I’m not THAT bad!” 

In her case, a lot of what she saves really is insane: broken things that she swears she’ll get fixed; items that will be re-purposed into something new. No, Mom, turning the microwave into a ice chest for the patio is not cool, it's white trash.  

The yards and yards of fabric that she said was her retirement ~ she was going to make crafts and sell them ~ has now become her detriment.  I swear the damn things mate like bunnies somewhere in the deep recesses of the craft room.

Image credit: Memories Wallpaper, Google search

But I’m glad she didn’t throw out the ledgers from my Dad’s foray into owning his engineering company.  Seriously, how is it possible that in just under 40 years, prices have changed that much?!  

Or the menu from the restaurant where they met ~ he, the suave and debonair owner with the European flair and she, the young and impressionable back woods waitress with a Southern accent and a braid of thick auburn hair that put Crystal Gayle to shame.

These at least aren’t just detritus from a life well lived ~ they are touchstones that bring the past to life ~ our version of a hologram.  And to touch them is to bring back both the past and the person who lived it.  I would hate for those precious memories to be lost. 

Although, dear God, someone please tell her that Good Housekeeping magazines from 1967-1986 are NOT worth the paper they’re printed on!

In Our Own Words

Accumulating things seems to be an American rite of passage ~ or a disorder, however you want to call it.  So of course I have my fair share.  My several sets of china will tell you of my love of food and hospitality ~ but so will the pictures of all those dinners and parties with friends. 

Each plate and cup and saucer could still act as touchstones to another generation I suppose, although it looks like my sisters will have to take up that clarion call.  No, if all that china got broken, it’s easily replaced.  The memories are safe, tucked away in words and images: in my journals.  In letters.  In blog posts.

The most important thing we leave behind us when we go is our love.  Our caring.  How we felt.  And the memory of that might fade once we’re gone. 

People always talk about how they can’t really remember a loved one’s face anymore.  Or the sound of their voice.

But a journal ~ now there’s a touchstone worth keeping.  There, we remember, in the moment, how it felt to see the Alaskan skyline for the first time.  How deeply betrayed we were by that one relationship.  How our heart pounded with terror as we spent a dark, stormy weekend alone without electricity. 

Just think how much emptier our lives would be if Leonardo de Vinci, Charlotte Bronte, Albert Einstein, George Sand had burned their journals.

The dark and the light, the pain and the hope and the redemption ~ threaded together by ink and the corpses of trees.  They died to give our memories something to cling to.

And that’s why ultimately I wish Peggy hadn’t ripped up those journals.  Such an incredible writer should keep the evidence of her journey ~ both as a writer and as a woman.  Wife.  Mother.  Grandmother.  That kind of talent may pop up a couple of generations from now. 

And how cool would it be for a little girl to learn that her Great-great-great grandmother Peggy was a writer who lived and loved and struggle to find her writerly voice too.

And how grateful that she didn’t leave her a ginormous stack of old magazines.

Oremus pro invicem,

~ Mikaela

Read It: Peggy Rosenthal is one of my favorite writers and all her articles are thoughtful and thought-provoking.  I invite you to read and be moved.

J is for Journals: Remembering the Good Times

Always carry a notebook. And I mean always. The short-term memory only retains information for three minutes; unless it is committed to paper you can lose an idea for ever.

~ Will Self

Back in January, I began the One Page a Day Challenge and immediately threw away my quill.  Now in April, I’m participating in the A to Z Blogging Challenge and prepping for a Wilderness Writers’ Retreat.  I need ink, a stiff drink and therapy.

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emember what I said yesterday about writing ideas down? 

Forgot already, didn’t you?

That’s okay.  Me too.  And I wrote the darn thing.

Another thing that I forget and I know a lot of other people do too, are the good things that happen.

Moments that almost escape our notice ~ like a hummingbird flying just beyond our blind spot.  For some reason, it’s always the nasty, hurtful events or phrases that we remember.

That’s why it is important to capture those magic moments ~ so on our blue days we can remind ourselves “that all who wander are not lost.”  And that too shall pass.

Also, it may help us to remember clichés to avoid.

J is for Journals and Journaling

When it comes to writing in my journal, I’m about average ~ I don’t write in it every day, but I do write in it about once a week.  I’m a mixed media journaler ~ I write by hand, I paste pictures, sayings, stickers, ticket stubs, and other memorabilia in my journal.  The memorabilia help give a frame to whatever I am going through that particular day, week, month, or year. 

In addition to my word of the year, which I have always written in my journal, I added book plates for each month, with a word, phrase, quote, or poem, that supports the word of the year. 

Perhaps April’s should be Remember, because I haven’t done it yet, although as per usual, I have copious ideas floating about in my easily distracted brain.

Journals don’t have to be in black and white

Image Credit: http://real-life-journals.blogspot.com/

Some people journal with drawings, paintings, or sketches.  These journals are works of art and a window into the artist's soul.  Every time I see one, I wish I could paint or draw something other than stick men.

But then I think, I need lines to write on; drawings requires a blank page ~ literally.

A couple of years ago, I discovered a book that talked about writers and their journals.  It was good to discover that I was not alone in my sporadic journaling ways.  You can read the post here:

Journaling to Woo the Muse

So write down all the good, the bad, the ugly, the beautiful, the breathtaking.  You may need to reminded of it sooner than you think.

Oremus pro invicem,

~ Mikaela

Do you journal?  Why or why not?

Top Five Friday: Find Peace Among the Pieces

A lot of the conflict you have in your life exists simply because you're not living in alignment; you're not being true to yourself.

~ Steve Maraboli, Unapologetically You: Reflections on Life and the Human Experience

In August, I’m participating in BlogHer’s Blogging Challenge.  The theme this month is: Hot.

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needed to get away.  Wrap myself in a security blanket of silence and solitude. 

For years, I thought that if I just lived in a another house, another city, made more money, or had a different job, then all the pieces of me that were missing or mangled, would magically realign.

Forget karma.  Truth can be a mis-spelled witch too.

Different Venue, Same Voices

I got my wish.  I went away for a week here, a few days there.  Finally, I could relax the emotional security system that is usually on 24/7.  I didn’t have to guard every word ~ there were no fragile psyches that would shatter under illusions and misinterpretations.  I didn’t have to school myself to ignore criticism and venom-dipped accusations ~ I just had to battle with the demon of self-criticism.

It was a battle I lost.

The old adage, “Wherever you go, there you are” is true.  The issues you are struggling with don’t stay behind when you change locations.  And if you change locations to somewhere quiet and distraction-free?  Well, those issues come out, take center stage, and do an agonizing song and dance for an audience of one.

At first, I was shocked:

I’m too smart for this ~ I should be able to think myself out of this. 

Then I was angry:

WTF?!  Can I get no peace!? She’s ruined me!

Then despair slouched in:

I’m doomed to have no peace, not even from myself.  I might as well give in and sleep.  Or watch whatever mindless marathon is on TV.  Or engage in (insert favorite self-destructive behavior here).

If You Can’t Beat ‘Em…

Image Credit: Pinterest

It wasn’t until the second week of my “escapation” that I shook off the despondency.  This is me, this is who I am: a broken, mildly dysfunctional human being.  Ha!  Welcome to the world, babe.  You are just like everyone else.  Except. . .that there are tools at my disposal that can help ease the wherever-you-go blues, if not cure them.

Friends

Getting out with my close friends does wonders for the psyche.  Do they make any problems I’m grappling with go away?  No, but they remind me that I am lovable, capable, and worth the struggle.

A word of warning: some people will say they are your friends.  But in reality, you are just a stand in for the parental or other authority figure they currently hate/have issues with.  Friends are there to be supportive, loving, and accepting.  They are not meant to be a cheap substitute for a therapist.  That’s not healthy for either of you.

Journaling

If I need to learn something, I have to write it down ~ the act of writing and seeing it in black and white triggers something in my brain.  The words on the page become part of my memory, and in turn, part of me.  Sometimes I write things down that seem dramatic and insane.  And when I go back and read it again, I see how petty or small the problem really is.

Journaling is a great tool for learning yourself.  And self-knowledge is one of the keys to self-actualization and healing.  As Socrates said, “The unexamined life is not worth living.”

Mother Nature

Even if you are a city slicker born and bred, there is something about getting out in the open air.  Parks are fine, but to really benefit from the healing properties of nature, it has to be a BIG park, where the trees and wildlife outnumber people.  I know I can’t be the only one who has gained strength by hiking or sitting near a waterfall.  The earth is constantly healing itself and I believe that some of that power transfers to us when we immerse ourselves in it.

Prayer

We all long for something other.  Just look at how popular paranormal fiction has become in recent years.  Your desire for something greater than yourself may take different forms.  But the desire is there.  Address that Higher Power and let them have it.  Yell, scream, throw things, cry.  And then ask that Higher Power to fill the empty spaces and lead you to a better version of yourself.

Therapy

I don’t know why so many people are afraid of shrinks.  We talk to our hair stylists, bartenders, friends, lovers, even our pets.  But we refuse to talk to someone trained to listen and help us work through issues?  You wouldn’t refuse to go get a broken leg set by a doctor ~ why are you refusing to get your broken life healed?

Granted, there are a lot of quacks out there.  I’ve known some therapists who ruined people or at the least, kept them in a state of brokenness.  But again, just because some doctors are guilty of malpractice doesn’t mean you sit at home with an infected appendix. 

Do some research, ask friend for referrals, and interview the doctor once you meet them, you can feel out whether they’re legit and a good fit for you.

Misery loves company ~ you’re not alone.  But the key is that we don’t have to stay miserable.

Oremus pro invicem,

~ Mikaela

How do you deal with stress?  Have you ever tried to alleviate emotional pain in any of these five ways?  Did it help?

Memories and Self-Knowledge: Why Journaling Is Important

There is, of course, always the personal satisfaction of writing down one's experiences so they may be saved, caught and pinned under glass, hoarded against the winter of forgetfulness.

~ Anne Morrow Lindbergh, North to the Orient

In August, I’m participating in BlogHer’s Blogging Challenge.  The theme this month is: Hot.

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hat a time capsule this blog has become.

Yesterday I was combing through old blog posts looking for inspiration for new posts; I had forgotten how Romantic and verbose I used to be. 

And yet, you haven’t abandoned me yet, dear readers!

Truth be told, jaded, cynical me is a little saddened and envious of hopeful, Romantic me.  Reading those old posts, it all comes back in a rush: the old excitement of preparing a feast for my friends, the quiet contentment of watching and discussing indie movies, reading poetry with other poets and writers, playing melancholic improvisations on the piano, the windows thrown wide to the summer breeze and our bemused neighbors.

“I am a person of hope. And I believe that ugliness is a negative ~ the absence of beauty. That to eradicate the ugly, we must put in its stead the beautiful. Only by "hearing a little music" can we hold on to our sanity. Only by doing this, do we artists remain true to ourselves and to our gift.”

Eight years later, hope has flown away for warmer shores.  I wouldn’t go so far as to say that now I’m a person of despair or morbidity.  But I am more wary of hope, finding that in the past, it was dangled in front of me like a carrot to get me to think, act, or feel a certain way.  Promises of perfection, a better future, a divine goal. 

We were taught to work off our debt from yesterday’s failures, and put all our eggs in tomorrow’s basket.  But we weren’t taught to live in the moment.  To cherish the time were given right now.  And so many of us fell for the well-intentioned lie.

Image Credit: Pinterest

Thankfully, I was a little too artistic, stubborn, and intuitive to give in to that mentality completely.  Hence the dinner parties, the embracing of the forgotten, and oft-discarded virtue of hospitality.  I lived in the now as much as I could.  But I couldn’t ignore the promise of the “golden future.”  And the inevitable happened.

I got tired of waiting.

These days, it is tough to hold on even to the beauty of the present moment.  Not completely surprising when this little ship has weathered some crazy storms in the last eight years.  Storms which cloud the memory of sunnier days.  Thank goodness for ink.  Paper.  Journals.

And blog archives.

Blogging is a form of journaling and many writers use it for this purpose.  That has never been my intention, but it has become a collection of me ~ the essence of who I’ve been, who I’ve become, and I can only hope, will remain a faithful companion.  But of course, it will only keep faith with me as long as I keep faith with it.

This is why journaling, and any type of personal writing, is so important.  It’s not narcissistic as some believe ~ although I suppose there are diarists who could only write about how magnificent they look/eat/dress/love/talk.  No, most of us are just trying to make sense of life, our place in it, capturing the precious, beautiful present moments to remember when memory fails us, and all our companions are no longer there to help us relive them.

History isn’t a collection of old bones and archaic battles.  It is the memory of life, fully lived, passionately loved, and bravely fought, written down for as yet unlived lives to read.  Now go live your own history.  And let pen and ink remember it for the person you have yet to become.

You’ll thank you later.

Oremus pro invicem,

~ Mikaela

I’ve had organizers tell me that I should downsize by taking pictures of things and then throwing the object itself out.  But that only works if you remember later why you took that picture.  Memories are more than visual ~ they are triggered by touch, smell, and sound.  Who said journaling was just ink spots on a page?  Paste pictures, dried flowers, ticket stubs, fabric ~ whatever! ~ between the pages.  You’re limited only by your imagination.