I wonder if other people feel the same compulsion to write, as I do. I know that everyone's mind is filled with a continuous rotation of thoughts. Often they are new; frequently they are problems or worries that are recycled. Over and over again. My question is if everyone finds therapy in writing those thoughts down. Nothing is quite so therapeutic as sitting, with a pen in hand, and transferring those daydreams onto paper.
It helps me. It enables me to focus on one idea at a time. I am forced to slow down, to organize, to wrap words around feelings and ideas. Suddenly random streams of consciousness become tamed and absolute.
Is anyone ever surprised when they go back to previous journals and re-read earlier disclosures? I always am. It is remarkable to discover what I have previous thought and recorded. Usually it sounds a little familiar; occasionally it startles; always it enlightens, as I peel back the layers of the mystery that is me.
We had a lesson in church last Sunday about discovering talents. The idea was presented that we should pay attention and follow the tendencies we have, the inklings, the promptings. Things we gravitate toward often are where our genuine abilities perhaps may be hidden.
I think I have tried to encourage this in my children. I wonder, though, if I take those interests of my own as seriously as I hope that they will. Over the years my interests have flitted from one thing to another. I become consumed with something, try to master it, and then eventually move on to discover something new.
Have I always succeeded in my efforts? I don't know. Have I discovered great treasures of miraculous hidden talents? No. Has my life been enriched by a variety of delightful hobbies? Absolutely.
So it comes back to the question: does everyone feel the compulsion to write?