I find "blogging" very therapeutic. Very much like journaling, but...different.
In journaling, there are no "do-overs." What I first write down, it stays there forever. Nothing can replace a beautiful, leather-bound journal (my splurge to myself every new year) and the thoughts that transpire from words and feelings into a daily record of a tiny part of my life. However, with blogging, it is usually an idea that I have been mulling over, and to be honest, it is usually something that irks me. Something that I have a gripe about.
And really? It works! I have the pleasure of rewording sentences, erasing thoughts, adding ideas, changing fonts -- really putting MYSELF into my blog. Tiny bit of background that might help explain this: when I was 6 my favorite Christmas gift was a wicker basket filled with pencils, paper, and all kinds of fun office supplies, a bit older and I wanted to be a secretary, and to this day I still get a real thrill walking into Office Depot or Max, Paparys, and any bookstore. I love writing, reading, and someday hope to write an actual book (I've got some ideas brewing...).
But this isn't a blog about blogging. What I want to say tonight is this...this is the first evening that I can leave the windows open and welcome in the soft, sweet-smelling breeze. And just because it is so tranquil outside tonight, I am going to bed and read a book. No TV, no lap-top, no phones, no radio...just me and my thoughts.
Just because.
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