I’ve been spending many hours and evenings thinking about this process of storycatching, storycrafting and storytelling when this morning I remembered I’ve been journaling for over 35 years. I’m also a self professed pack-rat and on days like this I’m thankful I am. For you see, my first journal began when I was only 10 years old and I’ve kept it, and the other half-dozen, all these years. This morning I even read a few passages with my own soon-to-be 10 year old daughter and we shared a good laugh.
I’m currently reading, for the first of many times I’m sure, Christina Baldwin’s book “Storycatcher.” In it she shares and speaks of the power of story as it awakens our senses and heals our souls. Christina says “I believe the kinds of writings millions of us are doing in our diaries and journals are attempts to heal the split in the human mind and in the human experience.” As I look back upon my 10 year old self on the pages of this little jewel in my hands I realize how it is healing me today. She and I are but one and the same, with 30+ years of stories in separation.
Today I celebrate my 10 year old self. Days before I became stained by womanhood. Innocent memories revealed before my heart was broken. Decades before I would pass along my love and stories to my own daughter. The young child folded in the pages of this little tome enters my dreams, beckons me to play, and imagines dreams yet unwritten.
THURSDAY, MARCH 4TH, 1976 Today I went to Love’s Restaurant, went shopping, someone hit our car with a rock.