It has been two weeks since my post on my goals for self improvement, and I have to admit, I’m not doing very well. Last week, I only worked out once (ONCE!), and I had Popeyes for lunch yesterday (POPEYES!). Overall, a big thumbs down. However, I did get some things accomplished. I managed to finish my novel for book club, as well as start and finish The Alchemist. I’m thinking I might do book reviews on these two books down the road, after I have some time to gather my thoughts about them. I also started moving into my new apartment with my beautiful cousin Stephanie. I will greatly miss my own little place, but I am looking forward to a year of fun and randomness with her. Plus, we have 3 cats in the apartment, so you know things are going to get wild.
In the past few days, I have been reminiscing of sorts. Maybe it’s the process of packing up my life (yet again) that makes me really look at who I was and who I have become (and am still becoming). That led me to here, this blog. It’s so interesting to me how I came to do this little project. For my entire life, I’ve loved reading. I appreciate good literature and I love a wonderfully woven tale. However, I have never EVER seen myself as a writer. I guess that comes from reading such good literature and knowing that I will never be able to hold a candle to these authors in the way that they create visions from their brain and transform them into intricate stories.
But all of a sudden, within the last year, I’ve felt the need to write. Not a want, but a need. I started journaling, and that was a huge part of my recovery process from the life change that I made a year ago (re: breaking up with boyfriend, moving back to Lafayette, quitting teaching, starting graduate school, etc.). I found that after pouring my heart out on the pages, I could rest. I could sleep without worrying and, you know, function at life. When I felt things building up and getting overwhelming, I just turned to my journal to spill my guts.
When I started dating Jeromy, I found myself writing letters at various times. Sometimes it would be after an argument, sometimes it would be when I was overcome with gratitude. Either way, I found that I expressed myself best when I was writing. My brain couldn’t form the words to speak, but when I put pen to paper, it all came out. When he would read these letters, he would encourage my writing, and it made me really look at my writing as a whole.
So when one of my friends and book club members, Alex Graham, started her blog (check it out, it’s really kinda awesome!), I took that as inspiration to start my own writing habit. Even if it was tough, even if I felt silly, I thought I could try this out and see how it goes. Through this process, I have found myself thinking more and more deeply about certain things, like my post about Syria, or I have found myself rediscovering my true passions, like my posts about reading. Honestly, I thought this would be a lot tougher than it has turned out to be.
I love checking my activity feed to see the amounts of people that have read my blog. On some days, I’ve gotten as high as 30 views in a day! That may not be a lot to the experienced blogger, but I feel so fortunate and grateful that people are taking time out of their lives to read my words.
