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Blast From The Past
Aug. 17th, 2004 12:10 amI mentioned that I'm going through my boxes, sorting though the assorted detritus of my life. In addition to my sketch books, I'm finding my old journals. I never kept them for very long; I'd buy a book and put down one or two entries a year. I'm now in my third month of this electronic journal, which blows my mind. It's so unlike me.
I've found a piece of loose-leaf paper with a journal entry from February 22, 1987. I've posted it here.
I was nineteen when I wrote it, and just as confused in my heart as I've come to believe that most of us are at that age. I mistook that confusion and uncertainty for failure, thinking that everybody else had a plan.
"Is my wonderfully cheerful and well-adjusted life so much of a lie? I'm happy until I begin to think." Actually, I was happy except when I listened to the self-doubt, shame and recriminations for not "measuring up" to what others wanted of me. I don't pay these thoughts too much attention these days, although they still sometimes come to visit, especially in the past year.
By the way, I still don't know what I want to be when I grow up!
I've found a piece of loose-leaf paper with a journal entry from February 22, 1987. I've posted it here.
I was nineteen when I wrote it, and just as confused in my heart as I've come to believe that most of us are at that age. I mistook that confusion and uncertainty for failure, thinking that everybody else had a plan.
"Is my wonderfully cheerful and well-adjusted life so much of a lie? I'm happy until I begin to think." Actually, I was happy except when I listened to the self-doubt, shame and recriminations for not "measuring up" to what others wanted of me. I don't pay these thoughts too much attention these days, although they still sometimes come to visit, especially in the past year.
By the way, I still don't know what I want to be when I grow up!
