Often do you see in movies the use
of journals; the mother dies and leaves her children her journal as a piece of
her essence so she may always remain alive. Many may roll their eyes at such
movie clichés, but I’ve always found it mesmerizing. I’ve always possessed the
desire to leave something behind—leave a part of my essence to remain in this
world long after I’ve parted it. Journal’s carry this promise; they carry the
certainty that you’re life left something—even if they were just words on
paper. Journals vow that you will be
remembered in a forgetful and passing world.
I confess; I do not keep a journal. Many times I have
tried to pick up the habit, but, ironically, life always seems to get in the
way. Something’s always has got to give. Responsibilities steal great amounts of
time from our lives and often seem more important than writing a couple of
thoughts on a piece of paper. This semester, however, one of my classes (the
very one this blog is dedicated to), incorporated journal writing into my
responsibilities. It turns out that a push was all I needed to jump-start my
journal writing.
However, this journal was not the traditional sort often
depicted in films. It contained a specific set of rules (more accurately:
“anti-rules”) specifically designed to improve the creative writing process.
Taken from Natalie Goldberg’s Writing
Down the Bones, the anti-rules were the following:
1. Don’t cross out.
2. Don’t worry
about spelling, punctuation or grammar.
3. Don’t think.
Don’t get logical.
4. Go for the
jugular.
5. Keep your hand
moving.
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Every single entry written challenged me in more than the
intended way of helping my creative writing. Of course this part benefited from
my journal writing since now I’m able to write more creatively, but the bigger
feat of my semester’s companion consisted of schooling me in the art of
acceptance. I write more freely now. My vocabulary and style are more relaxed,
but they still maintain the order and structure needed; I have started on the
path of acquiring the best of both worlds. Thanks to my journal, I can now look
past writing perfectly, and towards writing something meaningful; that is, in
itself, perfection.