My journey into personal writing didn’t start with a lined notebook, but rather a modest padded hardcover diary from the store my mom used to cashier at called the Pic-and-Save.
It was a sky-blue diary with an illustration of a girl on the cover. The spine read “Alice” in a serif calligraphy font that I would assume to be the name of the girl on the cover. Inside were lined pages in four different colors separating the sections. In my mind, the four sections represented the four seasons. Alice was in the bottom left and right-hand corners of every spread. I LOVED the lined color pages, and I loved writing in them.
The first entry was from when I was in the first grade. In big dark pencil, I wrote about a boy who did not play nice that day. The first stab at expressing my feelings on the page. It was obviously a turning point in my life. One that I would continue into adulthood, but abruptly stop when life got busy with marriage and kids.
Like many women in midlife, I find myself in a muddy middle. Some blame this muddy middle as perimenopause (a TRUE adversary to the woman), while others have pointed toward post-COVID recovery (which I will reluctantly lean toward). Regardless of where or to whom our fingers point, the fact is I need to reconnect to Alice, my first diary, and the child within who remains on those pages. The vigilant girl who was always struck with the injustices of the playground. The kid who saw the world so black and white through those rose-colored glasses of innocence, safety, and confidence in her written voice. Let’s see where she takes us this season.
Entry 1: TO THE MOUNTAINS WE GO
October 21, 2024
I have decided that at this stage in life, returning to writing about how life is and how it feels to go through it would aid in my being [set] free from the things – the anxieties– that keep me from enjoying it.
While I would like to say that I had made great progress recovering from the trauma in my teaching career that left me feeling broken [during the Covid years], I soon was reminded that a full and complete separation from [a] career [in teaching] would help my recovery the most. I say this because the setback I experienced last month when it was revealed my teaching certificate had expired and I would have to cease working immediately triggered an **AVALANCH** of thoughts. A tailspin of feelings shallowly buried in my subconscious about:
A lack of autonomy
Abuse of authority
Feeling invisible
Being taken advantage of
Being let down again
and wanting to hide from people incapable of respecting and recognizing my gifts.
NOTE: I knew my teaching certificate had expired, but while I was working toward the 100-clock hours, I requested to obtain an emergency substitute certificate. In the state in which I live, that request needs to come from an administrator. Unfortunately, no one requested that certificate on my behalf and I was left in teaching purgatory. I laugh now, and I don’t blame anyone, it’s just one of those things that triggers a brain to plunge into debilitating anxiety.
Oof! All the things!
I want this notebook [who I’ve affectionately called ‘45+’] to be a bridge toward healing forever. A gateway to inner peace, a return to optimism.
I greatly dislike how I view the world today.
I’m not a fan of cynicism and judgment. I miss seeing the opportunities to fulfill and make my mark in the world! Because, after all, I’m a mom of three kids who’ve got a lot to learn. And there is no way I’m launching my babies into the belly of the beast.
No.
I mean to launch them with a hiking backpack full of essentials.
To the mountains we go!
Entry 2: THE ULTIMATE TARGET
October 22, 2024
One of the ways I’d like to get back to myself is to embrace my joy of seasonality.
Being an Academic means [embracing the] seasons, holidays, and celebrations (and calendaring. Yes, I’m using that as a verb). [Those ideals] make me comfortable. Viewing the world through the Academic Calendar Lens saves me!
The first thing I did after buying this notebook was to take care of my family. The feeling of Mom’s Cooking, Mom’s Baking, and keeping the house warm [on a blustery fall day] evokes [feelings of] safety and peace (nod to Maslow).
I don’t align my personality with Domestic Goddess. I don’t even really like to cook. I’m more in the camp of bringing in seasonal goodies from Trader Joe’s, getting my kids' costumes ordered and shipped, and watching cozy movies that target the season.
To each her own!
My point is that making the EFFORT tugs me toward the center. And that’s the ultimate target.
The Simple Notebook
I don’t take for granted how using a notebook seems to be helping me remember who I am. My voice, my likes, how I interpret the world. It is refreshing to put into words how happy it makes me feel to read my thoughts on what I think and why I like what I like and hate what I hate at this stage in life. It’s been a while.
I’ve missed me!
Ambiance: late morning, writing at desk, candle
Notebook: Ecoqua Original Notebook, A5, Staple-Bound, Dotted, Flamingo
Pens: Copic Multiliner in 0.1; Ooly Oh My Glitter! gel pens
Playlist: Smooth Jazz Piano
**not an affiliate for any of the products shared. I simply enjoy them!**
