It’s true that it can hurt
To see the days that marked our past,
That made us cry and broke our spirit,
But what a joy to see our strength
Our will to thrive and oh,
Those golden moments in the sun.
A gift, an art, a wish upon a star.
I have sporadically kept diaries over the years and I sometimes wish that I had been a bit more consistent because I love reading them back years and years later.
I do think that recording your life is really therapeutic and I have started using the one second a day app where you just film one second of your day and then it mashes them all together into a thirty second film. I’ve already looked back on the first week and it just makes me smile to see that little slice of life.
My attempts are obviously not very artistic, but I do find the art of memoir writing truly beautiful and I hope that one day I can start to write eloquently about my own life.
One of my favourite books of all time is Wild by Cheryl Strayed and I would love to be able to write something that beautiful. The difficult part of writing something that beautiful is that you have to look at your part in the disasters in your life.
All of my diaries are polished versions of my life and even the bad bits, I blame on other people. I read somewhere that the secret to writing a great memoir is to be OK with people not really liking you all that much by the end.
I definitely need to work on that. But for now I’ll just stick to showing people my best second of every day…