Curious Man |
Now, to be part of this place of euphoria (in the journal phase of the project), the individual had to liberate their strains - those were the ones which made a person fill up with such bountiful emotions that it’s close to impossible for the words to just roll out of the tongue. To keep ourselves in check, there was time frame (10 minutes). Those minutes counted as a intermediary between me and my subconscious. They had the job to tell him to let all that befuddles me at that time to get out. Since we’re human and life is (most of the time) fairly complicated, not all days are a “ray of sunshine”, so when that time of day comes and screws your emotional balance, it means that the time to take out that not-so-dusty journal of yours and start writing.
That’s one part of this two month journey, the other is fairly simple. Each week the journal must have been filled with two life compasses, each of which measures your chakra (if you will) in the ranges of 1 through 3 in the categories such as physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually.
Those 40 journal entries were kind-of arduous for me, being a person who dedicated close to six months to learn how to write correctly and coherently. Truth be told, it was difficult to get on that road, trying to compress my preoccupation’s on a blank page for 10min a day or to even find a jugular to which I could cling onto. So, in most of the entries written, they revolve around different subjects that in a broad view may seem that they have conflated one with the other; most of them show at a single glance: anger, love, lust, desire, ambition, pain, curiosity, joy, disappointment, hope, and other which I can’t really recall at this precise moment. I’m not saying that most of my day’s are filled with those specific subjects, but I’m the type of individual who forgets easily events, names, mostly superficial things; but in terms of what was felt at that moment, it’s hard to forget.
When the time came to write unconsciously, my mind went directly to that which has been on my mind, but my conscious-self has decided to block it. Can’t lie that some of them had brought up pain from the past, but those reflecting words placed where the key to another door which leads to liberation. Which (in a sense) brought me to grow as a writer. Those precious moments in which you unlock the tombs of your mind for a short time, may make your face cringe in one way or the other and blow past-things up in proportion, but it also helps come to reason or become not numb to it, but grateful for it. Let me explain, facing things that have punctured you in some way is one of the most profoundly difficult things to do (at least for me). To re-read those wounds, which become open after reading, makes you wonder and relive them once again. To fall into that pit (once again) may crush you, but if you re-read it multiple times (while holding your cup of coffee) in the morning, you’ll see that all you’ve traveled was not in vain, in fact it’s metamorphosis. Going from one stage to something totally better, a new place. So, without further a do, I’m grateful for all the manure swam to get here and these journal entries and the life compasses done have showed me that, once again.