- my present awareness whatever that might be, with special emphasis on emotional awareness

- my mood and attitude swings

- discoveries about myself and the world around me

- ideas about the nature of things

- my activities, recording events much like a conventional diary

- grocery lists

- anything else i may want to remember

Writing in my journal is different in very significant ways from all other writing that I do. With my journal there is no audience at the time I'm writing; I may choose to share it with someone later. There is only me and my typewriter. Little else exists; I am a closed system within myself; I am alone. I can say anything I want to say and not worry about being judged or misunderstood. Being understood is not an issue in journal writing. All that matters is my own understanding of myself, my life processes, and my relationship with the world around me.

I suggest that you record your crises, how you get through them, and what you learn in the process. Even if you don' resolve a crisis during the writing process, expressing your sense of desperation can alleviate much of the fear and pain and clarify the nature of the crisis for you. Consider, for example, the following excerpt from my journal:

June 15, 1980 17:15

I'm feeling a heavy flow of fear -- increasingly over the past hours. Fear of the kind I sometimes describe as a heavy, electrifying sensation; energy radiating in the area of my solar plexus. And a growing sense of dread. Dread of... I don't know .... I just heard the footsteps of someone coming into my room, pausing behind me as if reading over my shoulder, then leaving again. The footsteps were so loud and vivid that I left the room as soon as I finished writing in there! Lynn is the only other person here and he's fast asleep... Back to my fear. I can feel the intensity of it amplify gently when I turn my attention to it again. I still don't know what it is I'm afraid of, and am considering the possibility that I am generating all of this crazy energy myself, through imagination; that I really have nothing to worry about -- if I only knew it!

I just now remembered looking at something a few hours ago, before all this heavy fear and dread started; something that was *very* frightening to me at the time...My being is vibrating with fear right now as I turn my attention to it... Okay. This is a big part of it: I'm feeling vulnerable in a dangerous world! I'm really beginning to worry about the violence on the streets here in the Mission.

Okay. Back to this thing I was looking at a few hours ago that was so frightening. There was a television special a couple of nights ago on one of the maximum security sections of the Illinois State prison system. It was a series of interviews with inmates in there for 150 to 500 years, most of them serving time for murder. Eighty-two percent black. One young white man said he had to change himself. He had to learn how to "talk black". And worst of all, he had to learn to hide any feelings of kindness from other inmates. Kindness is viewed as a weakness. Those who express such weakness get stamped out.

I'm beginning to sort out my fears now. I feel an immediate fear for the welfare of my friends. x, y and z went for a walk several hours ago and haven't returned. I had expected them back....So I tell myself "Look, Wayne, the decided to go to Land's End. Or a thousand other places. They're probably having a wonderful time... So trusting in that to some extent, I am not able to set that fear aside for now. And what do I find immediately in its stead but another fear: my relationship with all committee members! I feel a dread that something horrible is afoot! God, I hope it's an old fashioned case of paranoia!

I see three sources of fears. First, of course, is the stage set by waiting for my friends to return... Second, I obviously haven't fully recovered from the beating I got when I was mugged. While its effects are diminishing with time, I wonder at times like this if I will ever reach the point where I can walk around without fear of being grabbed from behind with a choke hold. I can feel the muscles in my throat go into a slight spasm as I write about this. Third, I'm feeling generally vulnerable for not having finished my doctoral program yet. Feeling a like a failure for having taken so long. Feeling guilty for having brought so much pain onto the lives of those who need my financial support. Guess that pretty much covers al the fears I can identify... There seem to be no others... Looking beyond these fears, my life feels incredibly beautiful and positive.

Back to work!

This kind of writing often begins in confusion. Often there are so many issues entangled in your fear and pain that you are unable to sort them out. When you try, your attention skips from one issue to another so fast that you never have the opportunity to resolve any of them. Writing is an effective way to slow your thought processes down and bring them under control. In this way you have the opportunity to examine each issue long enough to come to understand its nature and to see what must happen for the associated distress to be resolved. Wading through this initial confusion, as in the above example, can be compared with walking through your inner terrain, studying the ground beneath you and examining in detail whatever you encounter, writing about your findings and experiences along the way. Beyond some point you being to form an inner image of the contour and layout of the whole terrain -- because of the familiarity you have developed from your wanderings at surface level. As this image begins to materialize you "gain altitude" in your vantage point and begin to see with meta-awareness how the different ideas and/or feelings are interrelated -- and how they are generated.

I encourage you to take risks in your writing. Dare to allow yourself to write things you would feel embarrassed about if anyone were to read over your shoulder as you write. If you find yourself trembling while you're writing, you are starting to get somewhere. Once tapped, you can use your fear as a guide in your writing and, consequently, in the placement of your attention. One of the distinct advantages of writing into your fear is that you are in control of how frightened you allow yourself to become. If it gets too intense you can put it down and go wash dishes or go for a walk or talk with someone or watch television ( SH note - not always if you are a teenager). Away from paper and pencil or typewriter. The more mundane and/or ritualistic the activity, the better it serves as a means of relief from such edge-playing. You need to know you have the freedom to scamble back to the center, to the security of the known, when you come too close to the edge -- or go over it! Writing into your fear in this way, backing off as you feel the need, helps you also to learn to be more comfortable with your own fears -- which is necessarily a major objective for any of us who choose to develop our emotional intelligence.