Trajectory
Was reading Foucault a few weeks ago where he was writing about the history of autobiography (in reference to his concept of "technologies of the self") and he made a distinction between Classical Greek uses of the journal and the later Christian uses.
The Christians (think Augustine) emphaisized the journal as confession. The Greeks, though, thought of the journal differently: not as a place to look back, let loose secrets, and dissect fault from pleasure, but as a place to look forward, plan personal challenges, respond to readings and debate, and to incite the self towards growth. There is plenty of place for overlap here, but the difference in emphasis is crucial, I think.
When I think of journaling, when I analyze myself, I too often fall into the habit of "confession". As a result, I always feel a little after the fact of myself. There's a tone of regret, of being a closed book, of former emotions and experiences not quite measuring up. I think I want to twist myself more towards the Greek frame of mind, where everything is focused on the experiment of life that lies ahead like a tongue.
In that direction, I have a few challenges for myself:
*First, I am going to visit my parents this weekend. Long story short: We have a rocky and incompatible relationship and will be discussing the possibility of letting our contact with each other go by the wayside. That's what we'll be discussing. I am resolved to be thoroughly honest, distant but caring, and deflect any guilt tossed my way, and expect to come away with the feeling that, at least, each side is understood and that there is greater clarity.
*Second, I want to get more regular rest. Waking up this morning after a full night's sleep -- with the window open to the first sting of cold and rain, under a pile of scratchy covers -- was incredible. My mind feels alert and my body is not strained. Today I feel on ready. I need to get more of that through my weekdays.
*Third, I think I'm going to return to reading before bed. Last night, I started to re-read "Buddhism Without Beliefs" in bed and felt more and more centered as my eyelids flagged. Doing this more regularly makes me feel more centered.
Right now, I have a bedrock of happiness and sureness and love in my personal life, and I feel fully confident that it is time to place my hand back on this rock, feel its topography, appreciate its solid persence, and turn outwards again towards the gray world, with a fresher, cleaner, more curious and composed and goaded grin on my face. Set?
Like the wet wolf on the hillside starting-block, pushing off into the morning, tongue out, splitting the lying fog, the pack scattering similarly behind him.
The Christians (think Augustine) emphaisized the journal as confession. The Greeks, though, thought of the journal differently: not as a place to look back, let loose secrets, and dissect fault from pleasure, but as a place to look forward, plan personal challenges, respond to readings and debate, and to incite the self towards growth. There is plenty of place for overlap here, but the difference in emphasis is crucial, I think.
When I think of journaling, when I analyze myself, I too often fall into the habit of "confession". As a result, I always feel a little after the fact of myself. There's a tone of regret, of being a closed book, of former emotions and experiences not quite measuring up. I think I want to twist myself more towards the Greek frame of mind, where everything is focused on the experiment of life that lies ahead like a tongue.
In that direction, I have a few challenges for myself:
*First, I am going to visit my parents this weekend. Long story short: We have a rocky and incompatible relationship and will be discussing the possibility of letting our contact with each other go by the wayside. That's what we'll be discussing. I am resolved to be thoroughly honest, distant but caring, and deflect any guilt tossed my way, and expect to come away with the feeling that, at least, each side is understood and that there is greater clarity.
*Second, I want to get more regular rest. Waking up this morning after a full night's sleep -- with the window open to the first sting of cold and rain, under a pile of scratchy covers -- was incredible. My mind feels alert and my body is not strained. Today I feel on ready. I need to get more of that through my weekdays.
*Third, I think I'm going to return to reading before bed. Last night, I started to re-read "Buddhism Without Beliefs" in bed and felt more and more centered as my eyelids flagged. Doing this more regularly makes me feel more centered.
Right now, I have a bedrock of happiness and sureness and love in my personal life, and I feel fully confident that it is time to place my hand back on this rock, feel its topography, appreciate its solid persence, and turn outwards again towards the gray world, with a fresher, cleaner, more curious and composed and goaded grin on my face. Set?
Like the wet wolf on the hillside starting-block, pushing off into the morning, tongue out, splitting the lying fog, the pack scattering similarly behind him.