Soul Cleansing

If you're like me, and find a certain solace in words, then you'll understand, I think, about which I am writing about.

I find myself sitting in front of my computer a lot. Probably more than I should be. Definitely more than I should be. When I'm here, I'm not engaged with my children, I'm not cleaning, I'm not doing the things that I think that I should be doing.

Yet... there is something so... cleansing... about writing.

About tapping my fingers across a keyboard and making words that were, seconds ago, thoughts in my head, appear on the screen before me. I can say things. I can make it seem real, more solid, by setting my will to writing it out. I can read what I wrote and think about it, come back to it when I have to move on to the next thing.

I can vent in a way that verbalizing doesn't allow me to. Emote on my own time frame. Think about how I want to say it before saying it... getting it... just... so.

I like the way I can take my time. I don't like to be rushed.

I don't like to call it a blog, although that's what it is. I like to call it journaling. I think it's very apt. I like the way the word forms on my tongue, how, when I say it, it can go either way... from journaling to journey. I like the idea of laying down my life in text, of being able to trace backwards, my journey. I like that even though there is nothing neat about life, that life is all too often messy and unorganized and surprising, that it can't be culled or tamed... I like that I can put it into neat columns and rows. That I can spill forth the inner thoughts and tell about events that make no sense, give the context a pattern, syntax.

This makes me happy. Content.

And now, it's time for me to get up and go do some engaging.