By SUSAN DROMEY HEETER, InDepthNH.org
Henry David Thoreau once said, “Mornings are when I am awake and there is dawn in me.” As a morning person, I’d hang with Thoreau, drink my tea and write. And today I muse joyfully on writing in the a.m., writing in the dawn, writing in the journals I see as friends.
Journals are just empty books I fill with morning thoughts, intentions, stories, ideas, sketches. Like tea bags and skim milk, journals are a part of my morning routine. I’ve written of my daughters’ losing their first teeth, my wedding day, the moment I learned my Dad died. If anything, they remind me of the years that have passed so quickly, moments and names I’ve forgotten. I love journal writing; it’s my early morning workout with a pen.
And pens are part of the process; I like a good felt tip or razor sharp pen that allows me to zoom into thoughts, conversations, memories. The journals themselves can be anything – I find them at thrift shops, sometimes empty, sometimes with just a few pages used. I just found a beautiful olive-green journal, leather bound, entirely empty. I suppose someone thought they’d write and then went back to their phone.
I like the beauty of ink.
Texting is not the same as a good ink, a good empty paper page. I recently sent a three-page letter to a friend (HI Mone!) and I loved writing it, using my old school penmanship, my ink, to write and digress and draw and laugh. Texting does not do that for me. Texting is utilitarian; writing with ink is art.
Which is not to say that my journals are fascinating; they are far from it. Sometimes I read them before I go to bed and I fall asleep by minute two.
But, dear readers, in those two minutes, if I can remember a moment when my Mom was alive, when my girls wore diapers, when I remember the feelings of the morning of a wedding?
Well, I muse joyfully you may find your own journal and experience the ink of memory.
It’s glorious, life affirming, a cheap thrill and one that lasts so much longer than a text or even a cup of tea.
Susan Dromey Heeter is a writer from Dover who recently let her hair go au natural white. Writing has been her passion since her English majoring days at the University of Massachusetts in Amherst. Dromey Heeter has lived in The Netherlands, Alaska and currently basks in all things New England, including the frigid winters. An avid swimmer, Dromey Heeter’s great passion is to bring back body surfing as most children have no idea how to ride waves without ridiculous boogie boards.
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