(i-iii)

(i)
Lately I've been trying to synthesize a few different ideas I've had floating around in my head, relating to maturation, my secret novel, and memory. My big problem all along has been getting myself to record these things. I think I've always had a hard time conceiving of a blog as anything other than a diary. I'm hoping this will function in a slightly more academic/intellectual way.

Part of my problem is that I tend to develop new ideas or to find more concrete points of view through conversation. I come to a solution or realization within a dialogue and find myself content to let it slip away, never to be put down for my personal posterity. I also considered making this a handwritten journal, but quickly realized I find typing much more enjoyable, and efficient, than handwriting. I guess I am fully participant in the age of computers.

(ii)
Naturally, the theme for this blog came from a conversation. Jocelyn and I were up late sharing our family histories, small-town memories, and lost loves. We were considering the difference between using psychotherapy/analysis and the good old fashioned approach of 'dealing with it.' We are both members of the latter camp. Although I'm someone who strives to hold on to childhood memories as thoroughly as I'm able, I also feel comfortable 'sublimating' negative emotions that could feasibly be attached to various rememberances. To my mind, the ability to accept the obvious fact that an incident has taken place, to be able to access the memory when we so choose, and to fully realize that it contributes to our growth and can shape our adult personality in a positive way, has apparently worked very well for me ('apparently' because I only just realized that this is what I've been doing).

As someone who looks back on their childhood as having been incredibly happy and pleasant, I suppose it sounds a bit ridiculous for me to wax poetic on matters of trauma and sublimation. However, as I've become more and more conscious of the world around me, of what is and isn't 'normal,' I've found that many of my own memories, and much of my family history, is a bit beyond the pale. Hence, my realization that I've been processing these events and my reactions in the manner described above. I think this is partly why I remember, and feel my childhood to have been a wonderful time in my life. It's also the reason I've always enjoyed birthdays, both for the opportunity to celebrate the place in which I find myself, and the people around me, and because I know that I've had one more year of experience, good and bad, with it's own difficulties, joys, and boredoms.

(iii)
This appreciation for experience, of any kind, came from my mother's stories of her youth, which she would tell while we sat around in the woods. She's always conveyed a sense of worldly knowledge, what I've always referred to as having been around the block twice. It was something I admired in her, this openness, and was certainly an inspiration for me in many of my choices. This is where it all ties into my 'novel,' and my research and practice. It deals heavily with memory, storytelling, and family, and these meditations on experience and childhood are central ingredients in my concoction.

What I hope to do here is make some permanent record of my earliest memories, my scariest moments, and the bigger cruxes of my life. Something like a tidbit runthrough of my existance so far. The only question is if I'll bother to keep it up!