This is an exercise.

This is a stream of consciousness exercise- it makes me think of Kerouac’s concept of “sketches.”

I consider the last time I practiced this, realization dawning on me.

Most of my journaling is self-reflective only as it pertains to my thoughts and feelings.

I’m quick to forget about my surroundings and the physical sensations. Like the tightness in my hand, since I write with an iron grip, or even commenting on the people- places- things around me in the present moment.

I’m so easily reminded of my past that it tricks me into worrying about my future.

In a room, silent save for the breath of others, the flutter of paper, and creak of a table, I’m easily distracted- but I don’t mind it.

I can continue to write, my favorite thing to do.

Finally a veil has been lifted, sitting down to write no longer brings this weight to my chest.

I’m allowing myself to think, to feel.

No longer running from myself- my feelings or fears. The slow, yet sudden understanding I don’t have a life that requires running!

I allow myself to linger without judgement… At least to the best of my ability.