My Morning Pages

Self portrait.  I am continuing to do my morning jounaling.  Next, I am going to work on a time line of my life from my memories of earliest childhood which is going to be quite interesting for me.  I say interesting because as I work through the process of writing, I am able to relive the moments that I do not want to forget.  Most of the exercise and theraputic effort of my process of journaling helps to reveal and discover my inner artist.  For the longest time, I thought that I was not creative because I hated it when my 6th grade spelling teacher made us write a story using all the spelling words for the week.  I remember specifically that I had neglected to do my homework one day.  The morning before the bus came I was frantically trying to make up a story and could NOT for the life of me, begin to form a story in my imagination.  So, Mama must have felt sorry for me because she came up with a story using these words:  "While, the PILOT was MANEUVEING his CRAFT."  That was one of her sentences in the paragraph in which she had created using my spelling words in bold type.  As a 6th grader, I desperately needed her story but knew that my teacher would know that I would never make up a sentence about 'MANUEVERING his CRAFT'!  At least I had a story submission.  Wouldn't you know, that darned teacher called on me to read my story in front of the class.  I bet my face was red as I read that sentence.  What 6th grader would ever say that?  So uncool and obviously a 'Mama' sentence!  hehee. 

The importance and significance in this goofy recollection for me is this...My Mama typically NEVER did my homework for me.  Oh, how I wanted her help many times.  It would have made my life easier.  She always told me to figure it out for myself.  I hated this sentence..."That teacher gave that homework to you, not me."  ugh!!!  How infuriating!  I wanted to throw a fit.  No matter what, she never budged.  In the end, even though I doubted myself and cried that something was too hard, I always accomplished my work on my own merit.  Good or bad grade, the grade was mine.  Therefore, the triumph or hard lesson learned was mine to claim as well.  But, on the day that I copped out and had my Mama create that story for me, I felt embarrassed and ashamed of myself.  I'm telling you that I remember every emotion A-Z, just as if it were yesterday.  I realized at that time that I cheated and felt guilty.  I knew that story was obviously above my head and I could not and did not want to take undeserved credit.  I felt ashamed of myself for lack of preparation.  Procrastination has been a huge stumbling block for success my entire life.  But, above all the afore mentioned acknowledged lessons, I regret the fact that I succumbed to the idea that I did not have the ability to imagine and create a story.  When I allowed myself to become convinced that I had no imagination, there were lifelong, self imposed limitations and lack of confidence.  Looking back, I wish I would have just taken a zero on that stupid assignment so that I would have been free.  Because, the truth is, I believe that I have a great imagination for a story.  I love telling stories and recalling the gamut of dramatic and funny, ridiculous, sad, triumphant, disappointing, insignificant, profound, memorable moments of life.

So, you see I have really enjoyed journaling my recollections and sentiments in my morning pages.  I am learning about being true to myself as I go.  I have always written prayers and meditations of my heart but doing this current work is amazing and,...I'll say it again, interesting to say the least.