Digging and Diving Deep
Hello, again! I’m Jess!
My brain is constantly running on overdrive and processing the world.
I’m not sure if it’s a result of me just being me, or if it’s because I’m an artist, or if it’s because I’m a female, or if it’s because I’m human, and we all think 80 miles a minute.
Welcome to my crazy, frenetic stream of consciousness.
I have been a fan of journaling for years. For the past fifteen years I’ve filled my journals to the brim with all my thoughts, fears, and triumphs. Writing has always helped me process my feelings by removing burdening thoughts from my head and allowing them to become visible black (or colored pen) letters on a page – taking my raw emotions and making them visible words allowing me to detach myself from being overwhelmed to gain a calmer, more grounded grasp on the scenario.
I’ve always had a desire to write a book one day, and I imagined I’d pull inspiration from my life and the sh*t that I’d endured, so I saved my journals for years. But I’ve never taken a writing class other than the required English 101 blah blah type classes in college that I had to take as pre-requisites so I could get that over with and move toward the topics that excited me. (I’ve always been a math and science kid, and I got my degree in Psychology because I’m fascinated to know why we are the way we are. My curiosity is the driver of this bus.) So who do I think I am trying to publish my thoughts? Why do I feel qualified to write anything of relevance with no skills or training?
I don’t. I have zero qualifications. And I’ve rarely shared the depth of my intensity with more than a handful of people. I’ve always been told I’m “too sensitive. I’ve learned to adapt and express that part of myself internally for years because it was more socially acceptable than being outwardly emotional. Most people would describe me as calm, put together, and reliable on the outside, but my inner dialog is screaming. Always. It gets loud in there. Writing has become a welcome source of output for my own viewing and my personal evolution, so I have no idea if my thoughts are “relevant”.
As I’ve gotten older, and as we dive deeper into this quarantine, I’m realizing how much I crave true connection, honesty, and vulnerability in my interactions. I am less enticed to shoot the sh*t, and I want to dig deep into what’s happening in people’s minds and lives. Not just their doings, but their feelings and the things that move them to action – their joy, fear, humor, lightness, heaviness, darkness, brightness, drive. All of the things. I’ve always been a digger…so eager to dive deep into the depths of our true beings.
I am so honored when people feel comfortable enough to open up to me. What a gift to feel trusted and to see and be seen/heard by someone else. A friend once reminded me that it’s equally such a gift to give someone the opportunity to have that same honor when I open up to them. Vulnerability breeds honesty breeding bravery welcoming compassion inviting love and sparking dialog. All the things that I crave.
So I’m diving in. No longer waiting until I’m “qualified” or “relevant”. Opening the door into my internal dialog - in hopes that it welcomes and attracts connection, conversation, and love.
Welcome to me.
Digging and Diving Deep.