Mortaine’s Blog

This is a writing exercise I had my students do on Sept. 12 of last year. We held classes that day, and even though I probably could have been at work on Tuesday (the 11th), by Wednesday the shock had worn off and I was deciding that shock felt better.

Sometimes, it’s hard, after something traumatic, to get a grip on our emotions and to be able to express them in a way that helps us understand them. Sometimes, it’s hard to even understand what we’re feeling, much less to write about it. But if you go back to the “basics,” you can sometimes put your emotional thoughts into words in a way that helps.

Take five minutes to think about how you feel. Try to think of a physical object that that feeling reminds you of. Don’t be literal– no burning buildings or airplanes to represent Sept. 11, for example. Start writing down the names of the physical objects that remind you of that feeling.

Pick one of the objects, perhaps the one that is most like that feeling, or maybe the one that is clearest in your mind. This part is somewhat creative, somewhat analytic, and all expressive. It’s okay if you pick something that doesn’t seem to be really connected– you connected it in your mind, and therefore it is a part of that feeling.

For the next five minutes, think about that object. What does it look like? Does it make a sound? What does it smell like? Smell is a very evocative sense, one we tend to forget. Imagine yourself putting your hand on it– what does it feel like. Is it rough? Smooth? Textured? Is it woven? Wet? Stretchy? Solid? Write down these physical sensations.

Spend another 5-10 minutes writing out a paragraph or two description of that object. It is all right, even encouraged, for you to respond to the object emotionally in your writing, and to talk about how you feel interacting with that object. It is all right to describe a fictional action occuring with that object.

In this kind of writing, all responses are valid, even non-responses. When facing the kind of writing where you must confront strong emotional responses, it is all right to decide that you cannot confront those emotions. If you spent the entire 20 minutes trying to think of a physical object, then you have attempted the assignment. If you spent five minutes trying– and failing– to think about how you feel about a significant or traumatic event, then you may want to focus on another emotional area of your life.

When I did this with my class on Sept. 12, I actually wrote about my feelings surrounding the first two weeks of teaching that semester, because confronting my emotions of the previous day would not have been possible while maintaining a professional demeanor.

If you’re in a workshop or classroom situation, you can invite other participants to read their works out loud. This is not the time to coerce students or workshop participants to volunteer. Let the shy be shy for this assignment. Invite participation, but do not force it. As a workshop leader or teacher, you yourself should take part in this exercise and write something, and be prepared, when the rest of the class has had their chance, to read your paragraph out loud as well. This helps students understand that teachers have emotions as well, but by going last, you do not run the risk of “showing up” any students (and if you’re “shown up” by a student, you should be proud of him or her).

OK, I have to make a confession: I am not a journaller.

I don’t journal. I’ve never been able to keep one consistently. And usually, my journal entries sound like 5th-grade fluff.

Actually, I still remember one of my journal entries from 5th grade. It basically went something like: “This year is going to be sooo coool! I am going to be cool! I love Pac-Man!!! Pac-Man is soo coool!”

It turns out, 5th grade wasn’t cool, and I was the least cool person that you could find in my 5th grade class (didn’t we vote on that?)

About 6 months later, I re-read that journal entry, the first entry in an otherwise-pristine Pac-Man diary. Even just 6 months more mature, I knew how utterly stupid I sounded, how childish it had been to expect that this year would be better than, or in fact in any way different from, the previous years of elementary school.

I don’t even want to talk about the following years, which I started with somewhat more enthusiasm (my Mom lied to me about Jr. High). *shudder*

So, why am I posting this “I don’t journal” statement to my online journal? Well, probably because of the absolute ridiculousness of posting about not journaling in a journal which, if you click the little calendar link to your left, you will have to admit is a fairly well-maintained piece of babbling accomplishment.

I said I don’t journal. But I do ramble. Sometimes I just talk for the sake of hearing my own arguments, to bounce my thoughts and ideas around, usually off of another person, and eventually come to some sort of decision about the world around me.

I did this to my mother today at lunch. I think she was a little bewildered by the way I kept skipping around and switching sides and arguing against something that, for all intents, is probably a good idea in the long run. I also think she was proud of me, because she knows I’m a critical thinker, and that I consider her a friend that I can talk with like that.

A lot of people my age have problems talking with their parents, but I consider my mother to be one of my best friends. I can have an intellectual conversation with her– something that isn’t always available in my life elsewhere.

I mean, I have intellectual friends and people I can talk/argue with. But, for example, my friend Brian is always on the opposite side from me in any argument. It’s kind of amusing, actually. In a 4-person game, it’s an almost sure-fire guarantee that Brian and I will spend most, if not all, of our energy trying to defeat each other, and will ultimately give victory to one of the other 2 players.

Also, I know Mom doesn’t have that kind of intellectual debate with other people in her life that much. The area in which she lives does not value intellectual debate and criticism, so many of her opinions go unvoiced, and sometimes even unformed (because opinions are ultimately formed in a space of conflict, of debate, of pushing and pulling and negotiating one point of view against others).

Anyway, there’s not much else to say on this topic. I’m glad I’m here at LiveJournal, though. I’m glad I have space to spill out the ideas that ramble through my mind. I’m glad I can sometimes flicker into someone else’s journal and say “Hi” or “Hey, how about this idea, or that one,” or “I disagree with you utterly, and here’s why.”