The Emotions of Writing
A Journalist’s Diary
After a few rocky weeks that pushed wave after wave of hectic emotions through my mind, I decided to consult an old friend for a change of pace and peace of mind: writing.
Little did I know it would not only tame the chaos and help me punch through, as one Star Trek Captain once described the drive to persistence in life, but it also reminded me how diverse the emotional benefits of the act of writing are for me.
It was a short one-liner in my Ghana journal that stopped me. It caused me to remember and think. The little gem was a surprise find buried in old writing that helped me deal with the past, present, and future — when I originally wrote it and when I digitized it now, 15 years later.
As I continue to digitize my old writing, there may be more reflections on writing that surprised me. Today’s focus is on this short sentence:
The more I wrote, the better I felt.
Writing to Punch Through
I penned that sentence in the aftermath of the long day in Ghana I wrote about earlier this month.
Instead of going out to dinner the next day, I stayed home, enjoyed a spicy tuna stew with yams (which were a discovery to my past self), and wrote.
Writing is thinking on paper. It’s an opportunity to reflect on experiences and learn to keep plodding on. Dare I say: writing is therapy.
I wasn’t feeling too well because of the previous long, arduous day, the chaos at work, the spooky beach, and the near-miss encounter with a certain type of lady.
Writing about what I had experienced and how I felt about it relaxed me. I learned to appreciate the value of weird experiences as one part of the adventure of life. It’s what makes life interesting, valuable, and worthwhile.
It helped emotionally that it was a shared experience that forged a friendship. That was probably the first step to realizing how cool it can be to be uncomfortable.
Allowing the writer in me to sort it all out on paper was the second step. Writing is when it all begins to make sense. When life begins to click. When I can let go of needing to be all right.
The reflection that happens in that writing state is what made me whole again. It made me embrace the day before as a treasured part of the experience, resulting in the laughter I recorded in my journal together with that one short sentence.
Writing to Remind Yourself
We all are a work in progress throughout our lives, changing and adapting as we make new experiences and meet new people.
The person I am today found three benefits in that one sentence I wrote in 2008 — often very similar to how that writing affected me at the time.
It was a memory catalyst that allowed me to unearth details from that 2008 summer in Ghana. I doubt I would have dug up those details without that writing.
Reading myself gave me a look at the person I was at the time. That’s a wonderful opportunity to reflect, compare, and assure myself about the path forward.
Most importantly, hearing myself noting how writing about a difficult day benefited my well-being, how it made me see the value in an experience and allowed me to smile again, reminds me today to trust in the act of writing.
Lately, I’ve noticed that personal writing often got left behind. Finding that one sentence told me to rely on my old friend’s steady shoulder more regularly — even if I don’t feel like it.
The emotions of writing can help me through tough times, place life events in perspective, feel better, and be more optimistic.
That’s all the news from my efforts to digitize my Ghana journals for now. When I return to the subject, you may hear about a room of silence, another fascinating piece of writing I found.
Tomorrow, I’ll conclude the four-part return to Fun With Cameras. Next week, you can expect reading recommendations, an update on my creative writing experiences, and I can finally come through on the training update I mentioned before.
