I am technically enrolled in classes again, but my heart isn’t in it. I have a middle school teaching practicum (awesome), and a writing class (great), and a larger dose of boring bullshit. Are these two classes worth $6,000? Hardly. I am on the edge of dropping out again. My life has been exploding into worlds of hippie love and search for purpose. I am high in the clouds, riding the shifting winds.
My writing class has shown me a wonderful outlet: freewriting. It is my source of peace these days. I sit down, get comfortable, and start moving my pen. Whatever happens, my pen has to keep moving. Sometimes I just repeat the same word over and over — I have filled up an entire page with a single word. Sometimes I go on a deep symbolic exploration of my subconscious, exploring dungeons of memories. Sometimes I write nonsense stories, sometimes I just write nonsense. Sometimes I focus on the shape of my letters, sometimes I write as slowly as I can, sometimes I write as quickly as I want. I have hypnotized myself in this book.
It is so much more visceral than thinking. I am forced to stay with a thought long enough to finish a sentence. A thousand other thoughts arise and fade away before I get to that blasted period. If I were just thinking, one of those thoughts would have brought me back to the deeply emotional experience of breaking up with a recent love, and I would spiral down for hours. But when I am writing there is more force, more intention behind the thoughts, even as I go off into an unconscious trance. A passing whim is less capable of derailing me. Or sometimes I will be in the middle of an exploration when she comes into my mind — Moriah, I write — and having acknowledged her presence I can return to where I was.
It is important that it be handwritten. I love watching the shapes of my letters change as my mental state changes; sometimes it looks like a doctor’s rushed scribbles, sometimes it is deeply sensuous and feminine. I can evoke a sense of liberation by ignoring the margins, filling up the entire page. I can get a sense of spaciousness by closing my eyes and letting my words land where they will. Sometimes I feel the urge to draw a picture (I have drawn very little in my life). I have freewritten on a computer before, but it has never felt like this.
My right brain is waking up again. Welcome back.