[2021-04-22] Books

Over the last few days, I've been listening to the audio recording of Martin Short's autobiography, I Must Say. And—I must say—it's excellent. Not only is it well written, but it's also superbly narrated by Short, with all the delivery and voice acting you would expect from a comedian. His humour is dry and his hilariously accurate impressions of contemporaries such as Paul Shaffer, Gilda Radner and Robin Williams are spot on.

Then this morning, James Clear's weekly email newsletter arrived in my email inbox and included praise for reading books. Clear quotes a letter from author Anne Lamott on the value of reading:

If you love to read, or learn to love reading, you will have an amazing life. Period. Life will always have hardships, pressure, and incredibly annoying people, but books will make it all worthwhile. In books, you will find your North Star, and you will find you, which is why you are here.

Books are paper ships, to all the worlds, to ancient Egypt, outer space, eternity, into the childhood of your favorite musician, and—the most precious stunning journey of all—into your own heart, your own family, your own history and future and body.

Out of these flat almost two-dimensional boxes of paper will spring mountains, lions, concerts, galaxies, heroes. You will meet people who have been all but destroyed, who have risen up and will bring you with them. Books and stories are medicine, plaster casts for broken lives and hearts, slings for weakened spirits. And in reading, you will laugh harder than you ever imagined laughing, and this will be magic, heaven, and salvation. I promise.

Lamott's quote made me think of the most influential book I've ever read: The New Diary: How to use a journal for self-guidance and expanded creativity. I read this book in September 1987, soon after turning 19 and as I was beginning my final year in my four-year Bachelor of Journalism program. Author Tristine Rainer defined the New Diary this way:

[T]he New Diary is a practical psychological tool that enables you to express feelings without inhibition, recognize and alter self-defeating habits of mind, and come to know and accept that self which is you. It is a sanctuary where all the disparate elements of life—feelings, thoughts, dreams, hopes, fears, fantasies, practicalities, worries, facts, and intuitions—can merge to give you a sense of wholeness and coherence.

While I had been journaling for a few years before reading The New Diary, I took considerable inspiration from the ideas and tips that Rainer presented in her book. I found particular benefit in Rainer's guidance to talk with my Inner Self. Though I was clearly writing both my thoughts and those of my so-called Inner Self, it seemed easier and more effective to personify two contradictory voices in my head. I wrote to a friend at the time:

Ever since I finished reading The New Diary, I have been incorporating some of the suggested techniques in my own writing. I find myself asking a lot more questions and allowing my Inner Self a chance to voice her opinion, although even she does not have all the answers. I have learned to look at things from different perspectives and she usually speaks up when my writing is full of self-pity.

My Inner Self was especially good at challenging my thinking. I explored difficulties I was experiencing in my relationships as well as past hardships. I delved into my dreams. It was all very cathartic.

Rainer listed a broad range of therapeutic and creative benefits of keeping a journal, among them a healthy way to express feelings and release tensions, an opportunity to nourish yourself with friendship and self-acceptance, a path to self-awareness, a place to find creative solutions to problems, a means to enjoy solitude, an approach to gain perspective on your emotions and to resolve the past, a home to preserve family and personal history, and a workbook for creative writing.

For me, journaling delivered all these benefits and more.

In answer to the question "Where to begin?" Rainer suggested beginning with the present moment or period in your life. She posed a series of questions:

Where are you in your life now? How do you live? What are you feeling, thinking, experiencing? What do you desire? What do you fear? Who do you value? Whom do you care about? What is the significance of the present moment in the context of your life? What is changing in your life? What is changing about you?

These are excellent questions, particularly as I find myself dealing with ovarian cancer and contemplating that I might not live to be a little old lady, to borrow the language Martin Short's mother used in talking to her son about her cancer. Though I don't write much in my journal these days, I have been exploring many such questions in Jenesis. Blogging didn't exist back in 1978, when Rainer wrote The New Diary, but I think this form of self-expression would fit her definition.

Where am I now in my life? Dealing with cancer, for sure, but also examining other topics of interest to me and on which I want to share my views and experience. Figuring out where I want to focus my limited energies, cognizant that I have no idea whether my life will stretch on for a few years or many. Feeling grateful for the love and support in my life. Focusing on my physical health in a way I haven't had to before. Performing acts of kindness for family members, friends and even strangers because that brings me joy. Hoping for a long life. Valuing my time with family. Deriving meaning from sharing my story and inspiring others. Realizing that there is more to life than work.

In keeping with what Lamott said, The New Diary did help me find my North Star. And my blog has enabled me to take what Lamott called "the most precious stunning journey of all"—a journey into my heart, my history, my present and my future.

I also love Lamott's observation that "Books and stories are medicine, plaster casts for broken lives and hearts, slings for weakened spirits." I am enjoying finding meaning in books. (Is it ironic that both Martin Short's first love, Gilda Radner, and his wife, Nancy Dolman, died of ovarian cancer?) And I am welcoming the opportunity to share my own stories. Doing so is enabling me to realize Rainer's vision of The New Diary, namely, to come to know and accept myself.