Last night I was just pootling around in my study (feeling quite smug because I had managed to receive my first call on Skype), when I came across my diary. That is, a notebook that I had written some diary entries in in 2003 and the beginning of 2004. I have always been a wannabe diarist, but I never quite manage it.
Anyway, I was anticipating these entries to be quite excruciating reading, as I tended to write at times when I was cross or upset. In fact they were quite upbeat. How strange! I thought they would be all moany and angst-ridden. Instead there lots of ideas about things to do to change situations. What was interesting is how long ago I was getting annoyed with J, which means I sat it out for a long time. I will learn... I hope! Don't just sit on it people, do something about it. But, I think the things that made the entries readable was the fact that they weren't just a string of 'today I did x y z', but I did write down my thoughts and what I felt about things. It brought them to life.
So, I am going to try keeping a diary again. Or a journal. Clare lent me a book about journalling, and one of the first things it tells you is to disregard your inner Censor, that voice that tells you what you are writing is rubbish, boring, trite, immature, dull. It's not. Thoughts and opinions are interesting. What you do in your life is interesting. (Or if it's not, the author advises you get out more and do stuff - I agree!) In years to come perhaps your children or grandchildren will read your journal, and discover not only all sorts of facts about the life you lead and the times you lived in, but perhaps also a person completely different from the one they know. How intriguing is that?