Writing Our Way to Awareness

Descartes, the 15^th century philosopher and writer said, “I think, therefore I exist.” A person who jots down daily thoughts (whom I will refer to as a journal-keeper) might say, “I write: therefore I exist.” Writing down our experiences, thoughts, and dreams,  can function as a mirror that reflects and validates,  affirms and reinforces who we are.

Journal-writing can be used in a crisis to resolve a dilemma, or to acknowledge emotions that we can’t share with anyone. Furthermore, it is available any time of the day or night. We don’t have to find a friend’s willing ear or wait for the hour of a psychotherapy session.

 As a ten year old, I jotted notes on a little blue plastic-covered pad to express the feelings of love and hate toward my infant brother, with whom I had to share the attention of my overburdened mother. I couldn’t control my feelings, but scribbling them down gave me a sense of power and control over them.

Journal-keeping can be experienced as opening the shutters of a cloistered house to let in fresh country air.  Or to turn to the city for a metaphor: like widening an avenue to allow heavy traffic (our thoughts and feelings) to pass.

Journal-writing isn’t the only way to work through one’s thoughts. A few decades ago, I worked as a physician at Odyssey House, the therapeutic community for people addicted to drugs.  There I met Ruth Lisa Schechter. a skilled poetry therapist. Ruth led groups with the residents, inspiring them to write about their lives. Their peers provided an appreciative audience that helped to validate and the past trauma. Many felt empowered, often for the first time in their lives.

Several of my clients have found journal-keeping valuable, whether they jot down notes on a scrap of paper to present during a session, or record their daily progress in a new, elegant notebook, year after year.

Examining our own thoughts and feelings doesn’t necessarily lead to narcissistic self-involvement. Becoming aware of ourselves helps us become aware of others.

Conclusion: Writing can put us in the driver’s seat of our lives, to serve as a powerful tool to self-awareness and empowerment.

Dear Reader, I welcome your thoughts. jsimon145@gmail.com

The Power of Perversity

When a bicyclist disobeys a red light and almost strikes me, or a driver fails to yield the right of way to me, a pedestrian crossing with a green light  and within the boundaries of the crosswalk, I call out, “Thank you.” For some perverse reason, my sarcasm--the opposite of what I really feel or want to say--offers relief. What I really want to say is  “You’re a jerk for nearly hitting me and adding to the chaos of our city.”

The sarcasm is a mechanism for covering up--hiding my own aggressive feelings. If I react with anger, that meets the wrongdoer’s expectations. He’d dismiss me, feel validated, and think,  

 “Look at all the power I have to frighten her and make her angry.”

On the other hand, a sarcastically delivered “thank you” may baffle and confuse him.

“What? She’s thanking me for disobeying the rules and almost striking her? That is strange.”

This unexpected response could add chaos in his mind and even cause him to examine his actions.

Wishful thinking on my part? No doubt. Nevertheless, it helps me cope with the aggravations of urban life.

Dear Reader, I welcome your thoughts.