I kept a paper journal religiously from the time I was 15 until... oh probably my mid-thirties? It sort of dropped off when I started an online diary, but it's amazing to look back and see every single day of several decades accounted for and synthesized in excruciating detail. I'm not saying there's great writing in those tomes - quite the opposite. But it's where I poured my heart out, where I was free to be as ridiculous and pretentious and self indulgent as possible. I might just have to burn these babies before I die, because nobody needs this kind of mortifying record. But the volumes and volumes of me-ology certainly come in handy when I need a little inspiration, particularly when I'm trying to access the cuckoo clock period that is the teenage years. My twenties are a blur of life changes and beer-soaked questionable decisions, and though that can be fun to read (and useful when trying to put together missing pieces), it's the stuff from 15-19 that is a veritable gold mine. My writing life, whether fiction or nonfiction, ever circles back two major themes: death/grief and teenagers. To be able to be plunked right back into the choppy hormonal pool of adolescence is a gift when I need to be of a certain mind. Perhaps it's because I so achingly documented that time in my life that I have such a soft spot for teens, who knows. What has been revealed to me after periodic revisits to my journals is that, though I have become a full fledged adult who does boring and necessary responsibly adult things, I have changed very little, fundamentally.
I still care about and obsess over the same things. The two big differences are that I have become sure in and of myself - insecurity does not plague me, and I'm no longer inclined to do a morphing act for approval; conversely, growing up has made me a lot less SURE about things and ideas. I'm more flexible in my beliefs, willing to listen and leave room for argument. The insufferably arrogant smugness of youth has given way to experience. Not that I don't have ideals anymore, just that I don't think I have a single answer. And I'm ok with that.
The inevitable downside of dipping into the vault is that I fall down a rabbit hole of nostalgia and it's hard to come back from that colossally unproductive time suck. Tucked into one page I found a three-page list of quotes that Niki and I wrote down over the course of a weekend in December of 1994 (we were huge into our quote lists)! I hardly remember what any of them mean, but I was so glad to have preserved them and I just wanted to go back and read more and more when instead it was time to get HR ready for school. The potential upside, for those who enjoy other people's embarrassment, is that I will probably be posting some choice excerpts here and there.
Comments