On musings

December 27, 2012

I was rather shocked the other day when I read an old piece of writing of mine.  I scanned over it, thought for a second how very off it seemed and tried to figure it out.  I saw a huge mistake in it- it was wrote in such a starkly strict fashion it sounded like a sermon.  I grabbed out my old journals and scanned over them.  Some of my entries were fine, but some really sounded preachy.  This honestly scares me because I have been the one who swore I would never preach at anyone.  Advice, yes, a sermon, no.  I tried to figure out why and it dawned on me that my best entries are the ones when talking about nature- when I describe life without me in it.  The ones that concern me I pretty much bite my own head off and take it out on the "you" I always insert- whoever "you" is.  It's probably me.  Anyways, I am trying really hard to write right.  To write as my circumstances call for.  If this life is so good to me, I see no reason to write as if I am about to preach away to the last inch of my life.  If something must be said, I hope I will say it with love and without harsh words.

Now, do tell me, what are your feelings on my writing?  I mean, don't say you like it.  I like my writing sometimes and that is enough for me- please honestly say what you feel.  I'll respect critism.

There is peanut butter fudge and there is that big barn with the hayloft where I've spent many a hard moment.  There is a sky and there is land and there is life.  My family is close and all is bright.  I guess during Christmas season, you can even feel sad about some things.  There are still things (like good byes) that interrupt the magic of the season; and silly tears that will come over some trivial matter, and worrying about silly matters that infuriate me too much.  And what saddens me is that there is only next year- not this year ever again.  But I still have my family and that is all I need.
And hey, how was your Christmas, lovelies?
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2 comments:

  1. I've never really did liked my past journaling entries, the ones that actually found themselves on creamy paper in my leather journal - all I see in the writings now is a little girl who thought she was much more mature than reality and tried to give advice to her older self which is viewed as rather childish in the present. :P

    You don't just portray what's happening in your sweet country life - but you display the raw heartfelt emotions captured within simple words. Easily. Like you've been doing it all your life. Even the ramblings - perhaps, I can't comprehend them all the time - but I feel they are worth so much more than even the prettiest most perfect post I've read in the blogging world because you put soul into it - and it shows that you don't just want to share "picture perfect" beauty but rather the raw and wholesome parts of life that need to be cherished more. And I love that you reveal through your sweet ponderings that you are in fact a living breathing blogger who has problems in this life, who is human, other than just some random person typing away, trying to make a name of themself.

    So. I'm not saying I like your writings, even though I do, very much so. I think that you need to keep writing. Don't get depressed, darling. As the inside of my journal cover says, "Write the breathings of your heart." And I think I'm friends with the next Louisa May Alcott. ;)

    Love you {to pieces},
    Grace

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  2. Gabby, dear, your writings show what you are really thinking and feeling. You don't just post about what you have been doing; you reveal your heart. You may not always write perfect words, get a huge response, or be able to put everything into words, but you show the real you. That is what inspires me when I read your posts. Not always the exact words but what you show through them.

    Hugs,
    Emily.

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