I traded posts with Mari L. McCarthy today. Please visit her site to read mine. — Sharon As an advisor in journaling, I emphasize journaling for therapy, or what I call Journaling for the Health of It ™. I've discovered the extraordinary truth that journal writing can help you accomplish just about anything you want. As I proudly proclaim on my Create Write Now Facebook page, "Daily Journal Writing Therapy to become whole and healthy both inside and out is just about the coolest thing I can think of!" Nonetheless, the actual practice of journaling often involves good old ...

I look down the length of my snow covered drive and feel tired at the sight. I’m home alone this week, and the job is all mine, to do or ignore. The drive is 100 feet long, steeply sloping and wide. True, there are only three inches of fluffy snow. True, I could let it go, but it will only get worse if it snows more, which it probably will. True, I don’t have to do the whole thing. Even a little will be an improvement. I have no idea where to begin . As you can see from the photo above, I did finish, and in the process, I remembered several important lessons: Let the ...

Flash #1 A few weeks ago on her Writing Through Life blog Amber Starfire invited readers to join her in an experiment beginning TODAY. She’s asking people to journal for one week on the computer, one week by hand, and one week both ways. We’ll report back on our experiences, and why we prefer one way or the other. Click here to read more about it and sign up, and subscribe to her blog to stay tuned for reports on this research along with totally terrific tips on journaling. Flash #2 I am ...

In a frenzy of activity to clear my space for the New Year, I whip out my dust rag and go to work in the living room. How I'd like to get rid of this clutter, I think, dusting away. For a moment I seriously entertain the thought of getting a big box from the garage and … what? That thought stymies me. What could I do with this stuff? I ponder the hand thrown pottery vase. Mother gave me that for my birthday one year. It's gorgeous. It's exactly the kind of pottery I most love, natural earth colors. I feel the potter's love each time I glance at it. I feel connected to earth and ...

Do you believe in magic? Let me ask a deeper question here: What is magic? I keep a link to Dictionary.com on my favorites bar. The drift of their definition is that magic is appearances created by sleight of hand and devious means. I'm so disappointed. I do believe in magic, and the magic I believe in is the appearance of the unexpected, that which is not ordinarily possible. A related word is supernatural. That word, supernatural, brings me to the point of this post. Questions may be the single most powerful life writing tool. I refer to those open questions you pose on ...

This morning as I wrote in my journal a name flowed out onto the page along with the thought, “Which Truth is True?” I have many conflicting feelings about this person, whom I'll refer to as Heesh, because nothing about the identity of this person is important. On impulse I began listing “true statements” about Heesh. I admire Heesh. Heesh makes me nuts. Heesh sometimes says hurtful things. Heesh is a b . Sometimes I avoid contact with Heesh. Heesh doesn't mean to be hurtful. I learn a lot from Heesh. Etc. The list grew. Without conscious transition or ...

How often do you stop to think about the source of mushrooms when you slice one up for an elegant meal you’re preparing? Did you know that commercial mushrooms grow in manure in dark caves? “Wait a minute,” you may be thinking. “Are you trying to spoil my dinner? And what on earth do mushrooms, manure and and caves have to do with life writing?” More than you would have guessed. Mushrooms are a gourmet item, turning many a mundane meal into a foodie’s feast. Stories perform a similar function, perhaps livening conversation at that feast. ...

Yesterday was my dad's 90th birthday. One day last week the following conversation took place between my husband and me: “Rats! I forgot to shop for a card for my father!” “Why don't you make him something like Gil made my mother?” Gil is a friend of my mother-in-law's who lives in her retirement community. For her recent 98th birthday, he snagged some historical highlights of her birth year from the web, added a few sappy sentiments at the end, and wowed everyone. It was sweet, but … if I were going to do something like that, it would be a bit more, ...

TURKEY DELIGHT Twas nearly Thanksgiving and all through the house,not a creature was stirring 'cept maybe a mouse,The fridge held a turkey long since safely dead,and visions of cranberries danced in my head. Then I glanced out the window and what did I see?A full-feathered turkey looking straight back at me!The turkey was perched aloft on our car,I suppose it had flown there from somewhere afar. It returned to its preening without no further thought;And I yelled for a camera to snap a great shot.My mate came a running with shutter all setHe ...

My overdue post was all written, and I was ready to pop a picture into place and click Publish. Something awful happened, the stuff of which nightmares are made. Blogger burped. That event had cosmic consequences. The cursor flew down to a graphic near the end. Then Blogger burped again.  POOF! No more post. Nada. Blank white space, as pure as new-fallen snow appeared in the Compose window.   

The crude stick drawings above tell a story: Soku and Buho have a spat. Soku apologizes. They reconcile. The end.  In October I attended a Road Scholar program at the Pilgrim Pines Conference Center near West Swanzey, New Hampshire. During the course of the week, Alan Rumrill, Director of the Historical Society of Cheshire County shared stories of local history and legends. One of my favorite was about Mrs. Taggart. One winter day in the pre-Revolutionary era, Mr. Taggart took off for town to stock up on desperately needed provisions. He got caught in a blizzard that ...

Drawing by Rick S. HallAm I the only one with 23 unread books piled on my shelf? Each seemed so urgent when I found it, mostly at the Library’s Used Book Sale. All were titles I’d heard of, and intended to check out, so why not buy? I feel stressed! Am I the only one unsubscribing like crazy from e-mail lists? Skimming blogs I used to savor? Am I the only one who doesn’t keep up with all 583 Facebook, LinkedIn and Twitter friends? I feel stressed! Now the question arises — if I’m stressed and slowing my reading down, maybe others are took, and ...

Art by Willie JimenezJ.F YOU REALLY WANT TO HEAR about it, the first thing you'll probably want to know is where I was born, and what my lousy childhood was like, and how my parents were occupied and all before they had me, and all that David Copperfield kind of crap, but I don't feel like going into it, if you want to know the truth. In the first place, that stuff bores me, and in the second place, my parents would have about two hemorrhages apiece if I told any-thing pretty personal about them. They're quite touchy about anything like that, especially my father. They're nice and ...

Once, when his father was alive, Langdon had heard his mom begging his father to “stop and smell the roses.” That year, Langdon bought his father a tiny blown-glass rose for Christmas. It was the most beautiful thing Langdon had ever seen. . . the way the sun caught it, throwing a rainbow of colors on the wall. “It’s lovely,” his father had said when he opened it. “Let’s find a safe spot for it.” Then his father had carefully placed the rose on a high dusty shelf in the darkest corner of the living room. A few days later, Langdon got a stool, ...

Sharing words of story connects people in a powerful way. And as anyone who has ever listened to David Sedaris knows, stories read by their author take on an extra dimension of life. I love reading to groups regardless of who wrote the story, and I especially enjoy reading my own work.  My love of reading to others was sparked by Mrs. Schmidt, the third of my string of four first-grade teachers (we moved a lot that year). She insisted the Blue Birds read “with expression.” I loved it! From that day on, I read to anyone who would sit still and listen — sister, ...