"JOURNAL SPARKS" BY EMILY NEUBURGER

I ran across a reference to this book in thesimplethings@icebergpress.co.uk, the UK magazine I cite often, full of fresh ideas.  I don't use a Journal the same way Emily Neuburger does--to scribble, sketch, capture the moment, experiment. . . .  But her book sounds lovely and full of creative thoughts.  For me a Journal is a place to survive.  Maybe for you too.  Not necessarily a fun place.  A survival place is a necessary place.  A place to say things that can't otherwise be said.  A Private Place.  That's probably why I call mine a Prayer Journal.  God can absorb anything.  

Nevertheless, I loved the prompt from Journal Sparks.  The prompt suggested creating an imaginary conversation between ourselves and an animal or inanimate object.  For some reason, I immediately wanted to do this.  Here are mine. 

Me:  I am worried.
The Cat:  I never worry.
Me:  I find life hard.
The Cat: I don't.
Me:  How can I be like you?
The Cat:  Stretch more.

Me:  You're broken.
The Blender:  I know.
Me:  Do you care?
The Blender:  Not that much.
Me:  Why not?
The Blender:  I'd rather not be used. 

Me:  I like it best when you're clean.  
The House:  That doesn't matter so much to me.
Me:  Wouldn't you rather sparkle?
The House:  Only because it makes you happy.

Isn't it amazing what we can convey in a few lines? If I still taught 8th grade English, I would give this assignment to my class. They would do so well at it.  Sometimes an idea that seems silly at first then becomes intriguing, doesn't it?  What do you want to try?  A tree? Your grandmother's pendant? A photograph from the past? 

Every time of the year brings its own simple things to enjoy and perhaps to write about.  This first day of the year I'm thinking about snow falling in thick flakes; about a sled, hand-warmers and knit hats; about a fried egg on hot buttered toast.  And a wish that is not so simple:  someday, someday, seeing the Northern Lights.  

Yesterday my husband was recalling our favorite simple thing last winter in New Jersey--going to the indie movie theatre then walking next door for late-nite Belgian waffles. There are so many ways to honor nature's changing seasons.  Winter walks are wonderful.  In cities of course, where there's so much activity and so many duck-in places.  But neighborhoods too, at the end of the workday when lights are coming on, curtains being drawn.  Sidewalks or paths, it doesn't matter.

One idea for the New Year may be to find ways to get lost.  Tired from long hours, bruising news cycles, and the clamor of too many devices, we might benefit from some lost time.  Some call it slowing down and digging in, not being so distracted from the things we really enjoy, even if all that entails is actually finishing a job we've started.  Lost in a book--the ultimate relaxation.  Lost in the richness of our town, or our day.  Reveling in what our senses bring in, sights, sounds, smells rather than old repetitive thoughts.  None of these ways of being lost is idle or indulgent.  Rather they are ways of being present, of using our simple everyday events to tackle big ideas.  Let's do it!