The art of scribbling

I wrote a stream of consciousness poem while the moon was full on Monday.

I just grabbed my journal and wrote what came up in my mind, not worrying about spelling or about the completeness of lines.

Just me, the pen and the poem.

I haven’t read it through since. I have felt what it did to me, though. I felt calm, clear and so peaceful.

This is what scribbling does for me. It’s not a conscious act. I just write what wants to be written, and if I need it, I read it and type it up if needed.

I have many journals filled up with a lot of scribbled poems and deep thoughts, most of them never read again, nor shared on my blog or Instagram.

I will eventually read them again, and then I may type up some to share at a later date. Others will just stay there in time, frozen like a picture taken with a camera.

The simple act of scribbling is probably the most healing and soulful thing I do in a day. I resist it, at times, hide away all my journals because I don’t feel the need to scribble.

It always comes back, the yearning. And then when I write, it feels like I empty a vessel full of emotions, thoughts, ideas, all blurted onto paper as a poem or an idea for a blog post.

And then, as I put down the pen, I feel fully alive, engaged and one with all I am.

Just by scribbling.

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