The Diary Complex

When I hear the word "diary" my mind immediately jumps to the episode of Full House where Stephanie steals DJ's glossy pink, gold plastic locked book of secrets. Diaries are cheesiness to the max, the girliest of all girly pre-pubescent ventures. But I'm concerned that we're letting the outdated nomenclature of such a timeless hobby stop us from pursuing the documentary art of personal note keeping as old as writing itself.

The practice has gone through several make overs. We call it letter writing. We call it journaling. We call it writing. We call it blogging. But by any other name, the captains' logs of our lives remind us of the things we've done, the people we've seen, and how we've felt. One of my favorite Joan Didion quotes, I think it's from Slouching Towards Bethlehem, is this:

“I think we are well advised to keep on nodding terms with the people we used to be, whether we find them attractive company or not. Otherwise they turn up unannounced and surprise us, come hammering on the mind's door at 4 a.m. of a bad night and demand to know who deserted them, who betrayed them, who is going to make amends.” 

And it's true. If we don't know who we are right now, how will we ever be able to look back with confidence from whence we've come.

My ode to the self narrative is obviously personal. The process of keeping this blog is, I'm pretty certain, the only thing between me and a cliff off the PCH. So whether you share it with the entire world or with a friend in a letter or with the most important person in your little universe (you), do it! Because what greater adventure is there than the journey of finding yourself?

Buenos Suerte Conquistadores