Walking Between Two Worlds

This blogging is a bit sporadic for me.  However, I have often heard to become a good writer you need to write often.  I don't claim to be a great writer; although, I do hope to become better through writing.  Then again, maybe that is not the point.  After all, isn't writing about the story, the struggle, the journey.  The journey is where I am stuck right now, which I realize is kind of an oxymoron as a journey means progress, and you can't have progress if you are stuck.  There is the crux- in many ways I feel like I am moving toward something, but not really moving anywhere.  I am spinning my wheels.  Truthfully, for the first time, I feel lost.  I know what I want, but I feel too numb to do anything about it.  Have you ever felt this?  It is that pull to do more and be more, and yet you are still living and existing in a world that makes you feel too tired and down daily to do anything.  You know what world you want to live in, but you are lost to get there.  And, the world you once inhabited is gone due to lost beliefs, lost lives, lost dreams, and pain, and overcoming that pain to get to the other world you want some days just seems insurmountable.  I would be lying if I did not say I feel the pull of both these positive and negative worlds- the world as it is, and world that could be, but how to find my way out of existing in both I could not tell you.  Yet, maybe in that realization therein lies the answer. Maybe I am meant to exist in both the here and now and the dream world.  Maybe the trick is to stop berating myself and just start doing.  Maybe we all walk daily between two worlds, the world as it is and the world as it should be.. our dream world... and we all need both to survive what inevitably can be a very harsh reality.  Maybe truly finding yourself means sometimes losing yourself along the way...

All Rights Reserved by Jennifer Johnston

The Truth

I am not sure who or how many people read what I write, or if they will ever read anything I write.  The important thing, I am starting to realize, is that I write.
The truth is while there are certainly people out there that had a harder life than me growing up, I did not necessarily have it easy either.
In my darkest times, I turned to my journal, and through writing my feelings out, I was able to find insight not only into myself but into others.  Some of these revelations would have otherwise stayed locked in my subconscious mind had I not choose to write.
Journal writing is nice because you can hide.  You can hide the darkest parts of who you are, discover the inner voice the defines you, and release pain that otherwise left pent up would destroy you.  It is a wonder to me that more people do not write.  If you have a problem verbally expressing yourself and your feelings, I would encourage you to get a book, journal, whatever you want to call it and start to write.  Do not critique yourself, just write, and in so doing you will start to find your voice.  This inner voice will start to gain a place in your head, and before you know it, you will find you can use it to better communicate with those around you.

So, what is the point of all this?  What does it have to do with "The Truth."

The truth is, we all have a voice even if we never use it.  It is that little voice that we use to talk to ourselves or work out problems in our head.  It is the voice that defines our thoughts about ourselves and others.  What we fail to realize is that inner voice is who we really are, not the voice that we speak to the world with.  If we are honest, we all know that voice is filtered, censored, and even sometimes altered.  However, our inner voice is who we really are, that is the voice of our soul.  The truth is all too many of us ignore it, suppress it, or just plain don't care to listen to it, but we should, because by destroying that voice, by downgrading its importance, we are cutting ourselves off from who we really are and even who we may become.

I know.. I too have done it... I too have justified it... but I will tell you a secret I have had to learn the hard way.... you lose yourself... you become buried in pain... you cannot bury who you are without suffocating.  The truth is, just don't do it.  Do not be afraid of who you are.  Take the pain, face the demons within, yell, scream, cry... but find your voice because in a world that wants you to be silent, it is the only thing that might save you in the end.

Death By Editing.

I have been thinking about this for a while now.  Writing, like life, is a process.  We all struggle with putting our ideas into motion, or sometimes even on paper.  I have asked myself the question why?  Why is it I cannot seem to let my story flow?  Simply put, my story has died more times than a cat has lives by the hand of editing.  I edit it to death.  I hack every sentence, question every idea, reformulate every possible direction until I have written half a book but actually only come up with barely a chapter.  And, that chapter has no where near the purity it started with.  Again, I edit it to death.  This is not to say that editing does not have a place, but when editing replaces writing, pure thought, pure emotion, then it is a problem.  I struggle with this in my writing and in life.

I have begun to ask myself, what else do I edit to death?

I edit myself.  The me the world sees is only a glimpse of the real person inside.  I think if we are all honest with ourselves this true for most of us.  However, by doing this are we editing ourselves to our own soul's death.  How long can you edit to the outside world who you are till that is who you become on the inside? Are the best and most beautiful parts of who we are edited by use of fear, self-loathing, insecurity, and are we not the authors of this editing?   And, do we as the ultimate story tellers not hold this power in our hands and let it happen, or worse make it happen? I think more and more we do.  I think more and more we become less of the authors of our stories and more of a sub-character, or even at times the villain who works against the story itself.

And yet...

Editing can also be a force for good.  Because we can edit, we can also take out the bad.   Through editing, we can identify those things that may not be working and take them out, restructure them, or improve upon them to make a story better.  This is true in life, except I think we see it more as self-evaluation.  However, self-evaluation is just another way to edit.  We can change.  We can grow.  We can learn, and it all starts with being willing to edit.  Edit out the bad, accept the good, and don't edit out who you are in the process of life.  Discover who you can become instead.

I think if I can accept this in my life, I can start to accept it in my writing, and then maybe the core of the real story of my book, and life, will find me in the process.

Poetry 101

Recently, I have been enrolled in a poetry class at my local community college.  Since I was a little girl I have used poetry as a way of expressing my feelings.  I even have two notebooks full of stuff I wrote clear back in my adolescence.  Some of it is quite good- if not only for a laugh.  The poems I have written here are works I have done through assignment in class.  Some of my work is drawn from life and personal experience, some is not and random.  Some is light, some is dark.  I find, however, writing poetry is a very cathartic.  Also, I have learned what exactly constitutes good poetry really depends on the person and their own perspective.  That being said, I have shared a couple of pieces here I wrote.   Please do not copy or repost in any form without my written permission.  I retain all rights to my own work.

Judgement Day

by Jennifer Johnston

I see her

She sees me

Recognition but rejection 

Angry, wicked, piercing me

I open my mouth 

She screams

I loathe what she has become

She hates me right back 

Robbed, broken, weak

I blame her

Her eyes accuse me of my own lies

Rage, I lash out

Her hand blocks mine 

I cannot touch her

She knows 

I can only change me

She 

is 

me

I 

am 

her

I am my own reflection.

Love's Overthrow
By Jennifer Johnston

One boy.  One girl.
Separate hearts searching,
meet one night.
The sun's hold is waning
as prism rays incise the sky
to die another day in color's splendor.
Perched upon a boulder precipice,
they watch
as wrapped in the blood of the horizon
the moon reaches to greet the evening.
While two hearts strain for courage's flight,
a timid hand finds a pounding pulse.
Two eyes find their match.
A chill
that matches the autumn air
streams through flesh's inferno.
And, a girl
in anticipation of love's first overthrow
falls even blinder.
Silhouetted trees painted on the night's canvas bend
as both bodies bow in surrender.
Two souls bind, as fated, by bound lips
and born is first love's fire.

Drowning

by Jennifer Johnston

Gripping, skin tearing, rough rock unyielding.

Hands waning, as seeping water slips, sloughing all strength.

Pushing where no foundation meets my feet, just rapids rolling.

Praying for salvation, rescue, redemption, relief.

Screaming...

And they watch...

Muscles burning, head plunging, acid water burning chocking its way back out.

Hungry current starving, devouring, ripping me away.

Gravity swallowing whole its prey.

Unrelenting force the master of all.

Screaming...

And they watch...

Tossing, turning, severing cold consuming.

Pushed down, accepting, helpless to resist.

Welcoming death as a friend from the pain 

I let go.

Silent...

And they watch...

Struggling Between Light and Dark.

     I think everyone struggles at some time in their life with feeling dark or the darkness inside of them. There are those that would say that this is because that person is doing something wrong, that darkness only comes from doing dark things or dark people.  If that were exclusively true, however, then why do bad things happen to good people?  Why? Because darkness is a part a life.  It is what we do with that darkness or when those dark feelings come that really matters.  In essence, it comes down to a choice.  Light cannot shine its brightest in the absence of darkness, it is only with a background of darkness that its brightest light can be seen.  Therefore, the darkness does not have to be bad but can actually be the driving factor to good.  Again, it is about choice.  How will the darkness shape you?  Will it become a detriment to your character or a defining push to your betterment.  These are all things I struggle with daily in my life.
     As I write, I try to explore this concept between the opposite and contrasting pulls of light and dark and even the gray in between.  What inherently makes someone evil?  What defines someone as good, and is that by societies definition or by their own?  What turns a good man bad, and a bad man good?  These are questions philosophers have been puzzling over for centuries.  It is interesting though that this is a concept that has tested the ages since probably the beginning of the world.
     If we are all really honest with ourselves, it is not the absence of darkness that makes us good or evil, it is the choices we make and what we learn from the light and dark that defines us, makes us interesting, helps us grow, and ultimately leads us to be better people.  So the next time you judge someone because you see the bad in them, remember this... the only real power darkness has in our lives is the power we give it or the negative power we inflict on others.
   In saying this, I in no way profess to be an expert or perfect.  After all, it certainly is a struggle for me to find balance.  And, some days I fail miserably.  My only hope is to someday understand myself enough to embrace the darkness so as to only shine brighter in the dark.  My hope too is that by exploring this in my writing I will be able to explore this concept within myself.

A Promise

Brian Husdon Hull....1975-2013 

A Journey into the Shadows 

My brother died September 8, 2013.  Tragically, he took his own life.  I guess sometimes even the brightest lights can be overwhelmed by the darkness in this world.  However, the darkness did not win.  It did not defeat him, as I know he is still the brightest star in a sea of black.  He will always be that for me.  He is, and will always be... with me.

As I sit here writing this,  I try to hold the tears back and remember what I know he wanted/wants from me.... TO BE BRAVE.  However, in my life, and throughout our life together, he was the brave one.  He charged down the ski slopes, rushed to defend others without a second thought for himself, and was just the kindest, strongest, most beautiful soul I have ever known. 

Yes, he was the brave one.  

He was my hero.

     For the past 6 years, I have struggled.  I have tried to find my voice through words on paper, but I have only written draft after draft of a first chapter in my young adult book titled Shadows.  And, while I have had the story play out in my head a million times, while I can see the faces of my characters, and feel them in my heart as friends on another plane, I just have not been able to find the right words to bring them and their world to life.  My brother was one of the few to have read what I have started and one of the very few who has been on this journey with me.  He was my biggest supporter, always lifting me up, trying to make me believe in myself and the validity of my work.  

    Before he died, he made me promise him I would finish it.  So, as I sit here sharing this with you, and leaving myself open to all the world, I begin that promise.  

    My hope is that you as my reader will share this journey with me, and that we may inspire each other along the way, share a laugh or two, and maybe when all is said and done complete a promise I made to my first and forever best friend, 
my brother.