The Beauty of Journaling: An Example of Writing for Clarity
In a dark room with nothing but my being and my thoughts, I’m free to truly examine my existence. Who am I, where do I come from, where am I going? These questions often get set aside for more basal considerations. But I haven’t lost alignment with the part of me that wants to know my truth.
*mockingly claps to self, well done you*
In a world full of falsehoods, I am only myself, when I begin to detach from what’s around me. It’s very rare that I give myself the opportunity to free-write, as I’m doing now. But just like anything else that takes me into my inner world (meditation, psychedelics, floating etc.), writing helps me find myself once again, in the midst of life’s ever cascading waves.
My highest aim in life is to be present.
*lols, silly you, can you even make that an aim? *
As Eckhart Tolle, once told me in an audiobook, my past and future are just pathetic little projections of the mind. My thinking is limited. But moving beyond thinking, allows me to access the unlimited.
*the unlimited? what’s that?*
You could compare my mind with a typewriter — that can only string along one or two sentences, before the paper is wiped clean five seconds later by an intervening aristocrat. With a newly minted clean page, I’m then free to inwardly write another sentence or two. Only this time it has to be about something slightly different. I’m not always able to build upon previous thoughts in an intelligent way because of this fucker. Our thinking isn’t as great as it could be because of him.
*who is he?*
The words we write in our mind’s eyes, seem like they’re an embodiment of who we are — but they’re just a fragment. My memory thinking span is small, but with a real writing tool like this, I can carefully, smoothly diagnose my thinking apparatus. I guess I’ve been able to realise that my thinking brain isn’t that great.
*genuinely claps this time*
Maybe that’s the start to any budding self-realisation. Because if you hold your mind to great esteem, you will always cling on to it. And if you always cling on to it, you will never create the space for something else to come in. None of what I’ve articulated would have been possible to consider until I began to write the words. Like a coder, writing allows me to see how my software is operating. Currently, I am making updates to it. I’m removing the cookies, and the junk, clearing it out.
So that when I’m done writing this, I feel cleaner and clearer. But while I’m in the process of writing, my only consideration is to flow with the words. The ending resulting clarity is just a bonus. For every word I write, already gives me a great sense of satisfaction.
*What if lived my life like that?*
I started writing this piece, not knowing where it would take me. Similarly, I took my first breath, not knowing where it would take me. I took my first step, not knowing where it would take me. To realise the beauty of that… — everything up until now has taken me this to this moment.
*Slight diversion*
I like finding out stuff. Now I see that my quest for knowing, has been, to a degree, taking me away from ‘the wisdom in not knowing’. For it’s in not knowing, and the uncertainty that brings, that we begin to uncover a depth of experience within, that wouldn’t have been possible with a fixed aim or plan to get more knowledge.
Particularly where it concerns our direction in life — and the fun that comes with being creative.
I had no plan for this story. And naturally, I’ve enjoyed the heck out of writing it. Not to suggest plans scupper our enjoyment…. “ah but, they kinda do sometimes”. And to that, I want to let you know: I don’t know what the future really holds for me or you. I’m no longer insistent on planning my best life.
*Admittedly, hard habit to let go off.*
And slowly, I’m also disconnecting from the desire to ‘grow’.
*You wish*
Any seeking, even if it’s spiritually inclined, is just a mirage of the same desire to have certain things in your life.
*It’s still attachment*
Instead of seeking materiality, I seeked adventures. And after I had those, I started seeking spiritual realisation.
In the end, maybe all this seeking wasn’t needed? Maybe I would had more fun along the way, and discovered more, if I’d let go of my aims?
And now, I’m just left here, sitting in front of this keyboard typing away, cognisant of the fact that in a couple of weeks, I will have forgotten the lessons in this story.
*Or not*
We live in a state of perpetual dementia. But we don’t know it — and that’s the saddest thing. We watch inspiring YouTube videos, IG clips filled with wisdom and practical advice, quotes on Facebook, go on holidays…But it all washes away, into nothing but specks of memories.
Is there a way to truly embody what we learn and experience, so that it stays ever present and can be carried into every ensuing moment of our lives? I won’t attempt to answer that question. I’d rather let it sit for now. It’s too deep. And it feels like a black hole.
As I’m wrapping this story up, I feel like a runner who’s reaching his last few laps. As if, by stopping the act of writing, I can finally rest. I’ve been conditioned to believe that any creative endeavour, is like a race to the finish line.
A race to win. Or a race to lose. When there is nothing to win or lose. The thread of presence that we linger on becomes torn, when we start creating narratives in our minds, about beginnings and endings.
Success and losses.
