For the love…

10 01 2011

Once, in my early thirties, a friend told me that if she knew she would never get married, she would prefer to just die right then and save herself the effort of more lonely years.  I was shocked, since it had not once occurred to me to think such a thought about my own life.  But there was something tickling at the back of my brain, trying to help me remember that I had felt that way, once.  About…what?

When I moved into this house that I love, I wanted to surround myself with only those things that were meaningful to me.  This necessitated a gigantic purge of stuff that I had held onto long past the time to let go.  Thankfully, my friend Sue came with her large truck.  We sorted and hauled an unbelievable amount away — two full truckloads of books, for example.

There was one storage tub I refused to open until Sue had driven away.  In 1973 I was given my first diary.  Since then, I have been a regular, if episodic, journal keeper.  I have never had the discipline to write daily, so there are few journals which are full cover to cover.  Also, I’ve experimented with a variety of styles, both in my journal writing and in the physical journals themselves.  The one thing they had in common was their place inside a large storage tub which had been unopened (except when I tossed another one inside) for years.  Once the rest of the house was in tip-top shape, I had an overwhelming urge to open the tub and start reading.

And there it was, in a hardcover bookkeepers account log.  An entry from my sophomore year in high school (1977):  “The only thing I want to do with my life is write.  If I knew I couldn’t be a writer, what would be the point?  I would just lay down and die right now.”

So now you know: the heart of why publishing jenion has been such a joy.  And what lies behind the decision to take on the postaday 2011 challenge.  I am doing it for the love…of writing.

(Gentle reader:  If you have something you love this much, I would genuinely like to hear from you about it — please share by posting a comment.)

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9 responses

10 01 2011
MRB

Playing piano.

HOWEVER, in the 4 years (almost to the day) since I have not had a piano to play daily for the first time in my life, I have discovered that although I felt death would be the better alternative, I didn’t die, nor wish I had. Whew!

10 01 2011
jenion

I’m glad! FYI – I didn’t die when I wasn’t writing, either. But it wasn’t until I started writing again that I realized that a part of my soul was like a plant gasping for water in a long drought. When the rains came, it definitely brought new life!

10 01 2011
chrisinnm

Teaching. Mom says I was born with this defect. Why else would I look at a few free hours, contemplating what I would most like to do, and decide, delightedly, to spend them making lesson plans?

10 01 2011
jenion

Yes, I can attest to the fact you were born with it! In all the years of growing up, I never once got to be teacher when we played school!

10 01 2011
chrisinnm

Long belated apologies for my maniacal bossiness!

13 01 2011
carol erhart

Jen: please go easy on Chris as the teacher every time you played school. You got to admit she had thee coolest bangs ever back then.

13 01 2011
chrisinnm

LOL! Carol, you’re kidding, right? Nothing about me was ever very cool!

13 01 2011
jenion

No, Carol is right. You had the best bangs. Though I’ve rocked me some bangs at a few points in time!

13 01 2011
chrisinnm

I honestly don’t even remember having bangs then…but thanks guys for the compliments!

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