I have been trying to write in a paper journal. Last night I propped myself up in my bed with a few pillows and a new spiral-bound lined notebook. I penned a few thoughts, a few sentences. I spelled a word wrong. I ripped the page out. I rewrote the passage and spelled another word incorrectly. I flipped on to the next clean page. I again wrote the same sentences, but then I was not satisfied with the writing process. The pen, the paper, the tiredness of the hand muscles, the tedious attention to correct spelling and grammar. It drove me to frustration. I put the notebook down on the bed. How did this inability to manually write and express my thoughts on paper become such a struggle? I don't understand it. I love writing. I love beautifully bound hardcover journals...in fact, I can never resist perusing through them at a bookstore. I love the feel and smell of paper...the texture is so inviting. I love any type of writing and creative tool...books and notebooks and sketchbooks and colored pens and crayons and markers...anything.
I just prefer "writing" on the computer now. If I make an error, I can correct it with the tap of the keyboard. I do not like spelling and grammatical errors. Ever. It allows me to record my thoughts incredibly fast. Writing with a pen is far more slower and tiring than quickly typing out the words. I like seeing my thoughts in print. It somehow looks "official, real." I like designing a visually appealing (at least to me) layout that complements my writing. And. I love being able to share my life with others. With you. And I love to read all of your journals.
I think the only way I will be truly able to resume writing in a paper journal is if I stay away from the computer for days at a time. Then I will have no other means of recording my thoughts than in a traditional journal book. But I know I will not be able to manage that. I have to find some other way, some other inspiration to get me to just write. Writing in its purity. I have numerous gorgeous blank hardbound journals waiting for me on my bookshelf. They beckon. They call. They tempt. I want to surrender to their power.