I have been working on a book about the transformational power of journal writing. The working title is, Thirty Novembers. I chose one journal entry, written in November, from 30 years of journal keeping: 1987-2007. The idea is to illustrate how journal keeping enables one’s mind to evolve and one’s thoughts to progress. Some years, there are many November entries to chose from, some years maybe only one of few. Here’s an entry from 1999 that didn’t make the cut, but it was such a poignant musing on why I wanted to become a social worker, while studying for my MSW. Looking back through my journals for this project, I was struck by my own origin story. Maybe it would have been a blog entry, if I’d known what a blog was in 1999. Posting it here, on the chance that it might be of value for other helpers out there, contemplating their own paths.
11-26-99
dear Diary -
Why do I have such a hard time knowing why I want to be a social worker when I'm with my dad? Somehow when I’m with him, I feel like I wanna just listen to the stock market.
How have I been helped by psychotherapy to see the truth in my life. And to see that the truth is not that bad. To travel from darkness and to some semblance of light. The night with my mother cried and I, all alone lay & listened to the wind blowing the apple tree outside my window. How I knew that the apples rotted when they fell, but no one could protect them from the bugs & birds & when they fell, no one stopped to pick them up, they rotted where they fell. Sometimes I threw one for my dog to catch – transforming the waste land into an inexhaustible supply of delicious red walls for our pleasure. The dog soon tired of the game and I was left with a sweet smell of decay and backyard desolate.
Transforming experience. Perspective shifts. This is why I want to be an MSW. I want to reach out to children who are trapped in the lonely valleys of their own minds. Children who play alone among rot and decay and cannot see the blue sky for pain. Pain is a great buffer between fantasy and the real. Pain keeps you locked in fantasy as a child. When glimpses of real invade, they are antagonistic, puncturing holes in the flashy wall of fantasy. This living median. Social workers can help gently ease the real into the soft folds of fantasy, dilate experience until it is easy to slowly lose into the pores of rock the border has inherent…
To be a clear vessel. That is the goal. We all have a direct line to the the divine, but our signal gets blocked. Our signal gets blocked but a variety of forces, namely fear. Fear comes in so many forms. I find this fascinating. I'm fascinated by how many roads there are to healing and wellness. I define wellness as ability to manifest your most ambitious dreams and desires. To believe you can do anything, to see the steps involved in creating your dream.
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A later entry, made me laugh,
“Feel so highly stimulated by So many things when I’m procrastinating! It’s amazing! One should enroll in grad school simple to be more efficient in one’s daily life.”