This December book

1991 was the one year in my life where I routinely kept a written diary. I stuck with it that year because it was a school-mandated activity. I’m really grateful for that experience. It’s an incredible record of a year as well as a lesson in how useful and calming that practice of regular, written self-reflection can be.

I also kept a journal for drama and theatre studies I recall … but that was a slightly different matter. In that case, it was (I think) a part of our assessment and our teacher would read and respond to what we had written. I very much enjoyed that experience too … but it was not a private act. Though, in retrospect, I remember having a pretty foggy grip on the idea of the private and public  and I know I would have been extremely candid. Continue reading