When I was in middle and high school, I never kept a diary because I was afraid my mom would find it and read it. (Mrs. Mayor, you know you totally would have.) Then, in college, I didn’t keep a journal because, whew! who has the time?! (College is so demanding with all its demands. And talk about stressful schedules… with the parties, and the parties, so many people depending on you to lay out with them by the pool, and you have to actually be somewhere doing sometime, like, 2 of the 24 hours a day. Every day. Gah!) Then, when I started being a worker girl worker bee, I meant to actually journal, but I’d get so behind with my timesheets and my busy, important, busy-and-important things, and surely later I’d get to writing all this down eventually. But eventually never happened, and now I’m too far away from it to correctly cringe. But, oh how I wish I had written it all down.
We all hate to have regrets, of course. And mine seem to consistently come up not in the way I lived my life, but in the way I didn’t write my life down.
Last week, I spent a few lovely days in northern California with Maggie Mason, and we were talking about a random smattering of things that happened over the last year. And right there on her cabin porch in the crispycool red woods, it occurred to me that A.) I now think of things in terms of years … not seasons, months, weeks, days, seconds… And B.) There are so many things that have happened over the last year that I haven’t written down.
In part, this is because I spent last year living in high gear, making an effort to be awake, aware, and really alive for all of it. But the problem with that is, when I’m 80, I’m going to have a hard time remembering the details. And really, it’s just the latest flavor of excuse.
I know me. If I don’t write this stuff down, it will disappear forever. That’s why I began doing this five years ago. And even though most of that last five years didn’t make it over in the transfer of this site (urgh), brilliant minds swear to me that all is not lost. That it’s out there, somewhere, waiting to be retrieved and converted into a Blurb book.
That’s what I believe. And I also believe I have a lot of writing to do. Not only to catch up on, but moving forward. To proactively remember to make it count. That is why I’m excited to go to BlogHer in a couple of weeks. To remember why I do this. To live a little bit more life. And to celebrate others who do the same.