Journal Entry (Friday November 11, 2022)
Why do I write this trash anyway? The only real answer I can give is because I enjoy doing it. At least for now that is reason enough.
For me, there is something very satisfying about taking the time to do this. It really is a matter of taking the time. It is intentional, and it certainly prevents me from doing other things. I don’t know what those other things might be, but life is, no question, about choices, there is no denying that.
I don’t really think of the writing here as “trash.” It certainly isn’t up to the standards of say Edward Abbey, a true writing hero of mine. I suppose what I hope to gain out of this, and it will take a long time, is the ability to be more expressive. That is a skill that can only be acquired with practice. I would like to be able to go on a hike someday, and describe the experience in a way that would make you feel like you are there with me. I’m not there yet. We shall see. The ultimate goal would be to describe that hike in a way that Edward Abbey would appreciate. That might be a bit of a stretch goal.
There is another benefit I have to acknowledge, when I’m engaged in writing, I’m relaxed. That’s important. Not relaxed enough mind you, I’m learning to relax when I’m doing this. My hope is I will eventually reach a sort of zen-like state when I’m writing. An odd goal perhaps, but I think if I learn how to do that, my writing will be able to transcend the more-or-less mundane form that it takes today and perhaps become a legacy of sorts. We shall see.