Tuesday, September 13, 2005
Lady finger, dipped in moonlight, writing "What for?" across the morning sky - St. Stephen
I wrote daily for months, working through it, releasing pain, anger, humiliation. Finding strength to forgive, rid myself of bitterness, learn to trust. I moved, left much behind but those came. Left in a storage space were boxes of letters. I knew I would never read them, look at them. Yet I have these journals I do not read, look at. Another time, another space.
I wrote daily for months, working through it, releasing pain, anger, humiliation. Finding strength to forgive, rid myself of bitterness, learn to trust. I moved, left much behind but those came. Left in a storage space were boxes of letters. I knew I would never read them, look at them. Yet I have these journals I do not read, look at. Another time, another space.
posted by Helen at 7:00 PM
5 Comments:
Hi Helen,
Powerful post. Thx for checking in on me. I've missed everyone.
Beautiful Helen. So few words connected pefectly like a puzzle.
They are a gift.
I have a lot of the same that I never want to look at again. I think I keep them to know that someone else isn't looking through them and judging what is written on the pages.
Take care.
I recently looked back at some journals that are nearly 20 years old. I was able to gain some insight now into what I was dealing with then, and to see how it relates still to my life.
So, keep them, but don't read them if you don't need to. It may be that their time to be useful again hasn't come yet.
thats so true, with journals i'm always afraid to go back & reread.
amazing that you were able to keep pressing on to work through all of those issues.
you're a great gal, helen!
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