Prompt: List 50 Wishes
1. I wish to make friends with like-minded people
2. I wish to retire early
3. I wish to travel to Japan
4. I wish to travel to Italy
5. I wish to travel to Spain
6. I wish to travel to Greece
7. I wish to fall in love again
8. I wish to become more confident
9. I wish to become stronger mentally
10. I wish to become stronger physically
11. I wish to meet Shirley Manson
12. I wish to see Garbage in concert again
13. I wish for a vacation spent at home with no place to go
14. I wish for a secluded cabin in the woods
15. I wish to become an author of several books
16. I wish to own a bookstore or stationary store
17. I wish to have a popular blog
18. I wish for happiness in my life
19. I wish for simplicity in my life
20. I wish for purpose in my life
21. I wish to have complete independence and autonomy
22. I wish to read more books
23. I wish to live without distractions
24. I wish for more energy
25. I wish to meditate frequently
26. I wish to exercise regularly
27. I wish for Ipod speakers that you don’t need to charge
28. I wish for new books about clearing clutter
29. I wish for new books about journal writing
30. I wish for more adventures in my life
31. I wish for less anxiety in everyday life, and more ease with breathing deeply
32. I wish to have more fun in my life
33. I wish for the simplicity of the life I currently lead to continue
34. I wish libraries could be open on Sundays
35. I wish I knew how to cook more healthy meals
36. I wish I was more adventurous and spontaneous
37. I wish to find work that interests me and engages me
38. I wish for as much peace and quiet as I can get
39. I wish for my niece and nephew to live life true to who they are
40. I wish to live without anyone’s influence
41. I wish to continue to make my own decisions without worrying about letting people down
42. I wish to get enough sleep on a regular basis
43. I wish to find a good hair dresser so I no longer need to blow dry and wash my own hair so often.
44. I wish to have the security of a large savings account
45. I wish for a new pair of black jeans that fit well
46. I wish to clear out my home of anything old and/or useless
47. I wish for people to stop trying to tell me what to do or how to be
48. I wish for my parents to find hobbies to bring them joy and help them pass the time
49. I wish to have peace of mind
50. I wish for the courage to say how I really feel, all the time
(Entry below was handwritten on 4/23/15)
Prompt: Writing makes me..
Writing makes me happy, makes me feel like myself, makes me feel that I am leaving a mark on this world- leaving behind a legacy. No one may care after I’m gone. But I still write because it is a must. I have to do it. I don’t have a choice.
I enjoy it so much that I sometimes wish I could call in sick to work to spend the day with my journal, writing books and writing prompts for inspiration. I write when I should be sleeping, like right now. But writing now allows me to sleep better, to unload my mind.
Writing makes me discover what I’m thinking about, obsessing over. Writing seems to give meaning to my life, which at times can feel so small and pointless. Writing makes me feel connected to the energy of the universe- to get the feeling that I do play a role in it and have a right to participate fully in life.
Writing makes me feel heard, as there are so few people in life who actually listen. Writing makes me feel accomplished, whole, connected to who I am and who I was at other stages of my life. Writing is the common thread that has always been there for me throughout my life. I would be lost without it.
Writing makes me relax, helps me breathe more easily, reminds me of who I am, reminds me that I can be creative. Writing allows me to have a deeper awareness, to question things, to work out thoughts or problems, to have epiphanies. Writing makes me feel good about myself, makes me feel that my thoughts matter and have importance.
Writing shows me that my whole mood can change, just by focusing on an activity that gives me pleasure. There are still so many new experiences to be had, lived, written about. There is still all of my life ahead to explore and discover, and I need to learn how to ‘never say never’ because I can’t predict the future.
Writing makes me feel blessed to have a working mind, to have abilities, intellectual interests and stimulations. Written words are beautiful, they are captured energy. Writing is a simple pleasure that reminds me of simpler times when I didn’t have many worries weighing on me.
Writing makes me hopeful, makes me anticipate upcoming adventures, however small and solitary, that I can enjoy describing later in my journal. Writing is something that never gets old or stale. It is always fresh, relevant and exciting. Writing arranges my brain in a way that makes it easier for me to get on with living.
Writing always makes me feel like a fascinating person, exploring her talent.
“Age is just a number,” says the well-worn adage. But is it a number you care about, or one you tend (or try) to ignore?
I tend to ignore my age. I wrote about this in my journal a few weeks ago, a few days after I turned 35. I don’t feel my age or look it. Someone I spoke to recently said she would’ve guessed I was 28, so that’s what I jokingly say my age is.
I don’t think anyone can be defined by the amount of years they’ve spent on earth. I think age and feeling one’s age has more to do with experiences, risks taken, lessons learned and wisdom gained.
I sometimes feel really young, like I’m still 18 or 19 and then there are those days when I feel way older. It’s like a mood thing. When I’m caring well for myself, I feel young and energetic.
When I’m eating the right foods, meditating regularly and exercising, that leads to a whole other perspective. A healthier and happier one. But it’s not always easy to remember to do. I let myself be motivated by how I will feel afterwards. I think how awful it feels after you eat something unhealthy, or forget to meditate or exercise for a long while. And also, when I fail to write.
Writing is something I’ve done consistently since I was about 9 or 10. I started writing poems and stories, then keeping journals. I feel alive and like a younger version of me when I write, especially by hand.
It’s an immediate connection to my identity. I’ve written a lot more lately in my physical journal and thought about posting some of those entries here, but there is some writing that you just feel you have to keep to yourself sometimes.
I still fear getting older, but I try to think of aging as becoming the best version of myself with each birthday that comes. If I’m still here, it means there is something for me to learn in this life, and I look forward to finding out what it is. I look forward to fully realizing myself.
There’s something about turning 35 that makes me want to stop putting up with nonsense, with the bullshit that should be ignored, and just be who I am without apologies. If not now, then when?
Any age is a good age to realize that there is no one else to please, only yourself.
You’re at the airport, your flight is delayed for six more hours, and none of your electronic devices is working. How do you pass the time?
I would hopefully have a physical journal with me, so I could spend the time writing. Airports are not exactly comfortable places for sleeping and there would be little else to do, except maybe people watch.
This sounds like a nightmare for me, since I am such an impatient person. I think I would spend lots of time pacing around, then sitting to meditate. Then finally to write.
I would hope my journal was empty, and I’d have a good number of pens. Trying to write for six hours straight would probably be tough, but I would attempt it.
I would write letters to everyone in my life, and everyone no longer in my life who still resonates in my heart. I’d let out everything I’ve ever wanted to say to everyone I’ve ever known.
I’d probably also write a list of all my favorite possessions, and see if I can get it to be under 100 things. I do this now from time to time, when I let things go and new things come in to my life, so I make sure I’m not stuck in a constant avalanche of new things without discarding some of the old.
Our tastes and lives and bodies and minds are constantly changing. My miserable times usually come from trying to hold on to someone I used to be in the past.
It’s wiser and better to stay in the present, and look towards the future, and realize that the future can be molded by decisions made today. I wish I had my priorities in better order back in college. If I could go back to that time, knowing what I know now, my life would be totally different. I’m getting away from the idea of this prompt. But I think I would write about all this for six hours if I had no other distractions.
I would map out my whole life, decide which decisions I would like to undo and leave behind buried in the past, and plot a course for the future. I never really thought about myself at this age (I am now) when I was younger. I figured the most fun to be had would be in my 20s. But life is what you make of it, and how much you decide to explore it, and explore yourself.
I think it would be lovely to have six free hours to meditate, then write, then meditate some more. Maybe sleep, if I could find a comfortable place. I would write about my dreams, my hopes, my fantasies, my regrets, my wishes.
I would write down my prayers. I would try to recall everything that I’ve ever read that gave me some inspiration or insight. I would probably end up with a fine, completed work. A sort of autobiography.
I guess this is the type of thing writers seek out when they mention dreaming of a secluded cabin in the woods. Every writer’s dream is long stretches of time and days of peace and quiet, disconnected from the world, left alone with his/her own thoughts.
Recording the words of that inner voice is the most pleasurable thing to a writer. It gets us to a euphoric state that we want to constantly return to again and again.
Prompt: What bores you?
I am bored by celebrity gossip, by shallow people who have nothing insightful to say. I’m bored by politics, by work when there is little work to do. I’m bored by most television. I’m bored when watching a parade.
I’m bored and disturbed by watching news. I’m bored by remaining stagnant. I’m bored by the same old routine, never venturing out to try new things, see new things, or meet new people.
I’m bored when I have the same old thoughts every day, when I don’t challenge myself to think differently, to act differently, to be more authentically me.
I’m bored in the winter time, when it’s too cold to go out and explore. I’m bored when I’m not reading an interesting book, I’m bored when I can’t think of anything to write about. I’m bored most of the time when grocery shopping.
I’m bored if I ever have to look at Facebook. I’m bored when I look at people and everyone I see is looking down at a phone or an Ipod in their hand. I’m bored when I listen to pop music by the artists on the radio today.
I’m bored by small talk about the weather when I go into the office. But what else is there to talk about with people who you don’t know well? I’m bored with regular nail polish colors, preferring to wear grey or green or blue shades.
I’m bored with long, brown hair and sometimes wish my hair was straight and violet colored. I’m bored with other people taking selfies, thinking that anyone really cares where they are or what they’re doing.
I’m bored when I’m not learning any new information. I’m bored when sitting in a cubicle, in offices that are too brightly lit. I get bored when every day is the same, when I play it too safe, when I forget to live my one and only life.
(Entry below is an excerpt from an entry that was handwritten on 4/26/14)
Prompt: Describe a memory or encounter in which you considered your faith, religion, spirituality or lack of- for the first time.
This was not the first instance when I considered my faith or spirituality, but I remember really being struck by something that was said at my grandfather’s wake. The priest said to all that were gathered, “You should ask yourself, how sincere are you when you say your prayers? Or, how sincerely do you pray?”
And I realized that a lot of the time, I just pray by reciting the words mentally that I have memorized. I don’t say them with feeling. It’s as if I just think reciting them is enough, that it will create change somehow.
I don’t really put sufficient faith or heart behind the words when I pray. I would do it in almost a sense of obligation, not because I believed prayers would make any difference at all. Sometimes I still pray that way, without really considering the words I’m saying, only what I’m praying for.
I think the greatest and most sincere way that I pray is through gratitude, thinking and saying ‘thank you’ when I feel grateful for ordinary things. I enjoy and savor the feeling of gratitude.
I’m grateful that my senses let me experience the world, that my body works properly and I am able-bodied, that I can take steps to become more physically fit.
I feel grateful that I know where my next meal is coming from, that I have enough money to cover my expenses. I feel grateful for my family members, for my free time, for the beautiful jewelry that I own, for hot water when I bathe and shower, and for my comfortable bed.
I’m grateful for my mind, my experience, my education, and my earning power. I’m grateful that people love me, that I’ve never had to go hungry, that I can choose what I eat. I’m grateful that my parents were always so selfless and loving towards me.
I’m grateful to have extra money to buy people gifts. I’m grateful that each new day is a chance for change to happen. I’m grateful for abundance, for the renewal of spring, for the ability to change my environment, for the ability to dream and imagine.
And I’m grateful that I can write, and express myself in a way that feels most natural to me. I’m grateful for simple choices, a low amount of stress, for sleep. I’m grateful for good, absorbing books.
Prompt: Write down the first words that comes to mind when we say . . . home. . . soil. . . rain.
Home is where the heart is. Home is my family, a home-cooked meal, sitting around a table together, taking pictures together, hugging. Home is coming to a place where everyone loves you and accepts you no matter what. Home is unconditional love.
Home is where you feel most natural, most comfortable, most at ease and most precious. Home is where you can always go to replenish yourself. Home is your sanctuary, you save haven, you shelter from the storms of life. Home is the place you can always go back to and be welcomed with open arms.
Soil. Nothing comes to mind at first when I think of soil. I think of gardening, of planting, of new life, of playing outdoors. Soil is where plants and flowers originate. Soil can be fertile or barren.
Soil can be uprooted, can contain insects, can be soft, muddy, slippery. My mother once said she had the urge to eat soil. It was appetizing to her. A living thing can grow through soil, and be consumed. Gardens can be planted in soil, bringing beauty and joy.
Rain. First thing that comes to mind is the Madonna song by that name. The imagery that comes up is the video for that song. Rain is fun to observe. Rain replenishes. Rain can be fun to play in if you don’t have much self-consciousness.
Rain is what we are protected from as children, so that we don’t catch colds. Rain can be a blessing or a curse. It can be nourishing for crops and farmers. But rain is also destructive when floods occur. I enjoy rainy days for the most part. And the song “Only Happy When it Rains” by Garbage is one of my favorite songs of all time.
Prompt: Moment of clarity
Tell us about a time you’d been trying to solve a knotty
problem — maybe it was an interpersonal problem, a life
problem,— and you had a moment of clarity
when the solution appeared to you, as though you were
struck by lightning.
I wasn’t actually trying to solve a problem, but one day while I was in the shower, I had an a-ha moment. For some reason I was thinking about how people seem to always want pity, myself included at the time.
A big part of what I thought about were things like ‘poor me,’ ‘if only others could see how difficult things are for me,’ etc. I would think about how I dwelled on negative things that I have been told and hung on to them, to no one’s detriment but my own.
Any suddenly, I realized it. That’s what it means when we are told not to play the role of victim. It’s better to release the past and all the past stories you tell yourself about your life and what has happened to you, and why you deserve all this pity from others. No one cares. Everyone has been through difficulties and deals with them differently.
Some people just need to vent, and need a kind ear to listen to them without interruption. Some people seek advice about how to make things better. And some people just bottle up their issue inside them, never seeking relief or help. Instead they choose to feel sorry for themselves and feel that the world owes them something.
I realized that this is faulty thinking. And everyone deals with their own struggles that we can’t possibly understand. We may try to make others see what it’s like to walk in our shoes, but they can’t truly feel everything that happens to us the way we do. We process things through the lens of our past experiences, and our own beliefs about who we are.
I felt this realization was a moment of maturity for me. I won’t get caught in the trap of ‘woe is me’ anymore, because I have too many things in my life to be grateful for.
There is no reason to focus on what’s lacking, when our blessings are way more abundant. All we can do is show others kindness, be willing to listen, and do our best for ourselves in our lives. No one is coming along to save the day. We need to make a plan to save ourselves when the going gets tough.
(Entry below was handwritten on 3/12/14)
Prompt: Make a list of things you love. Keep listing until you feel amazing.
(from the book, The Power by Rhonda Byrne)
I love my mother, my niece and nephew, my sister, my dad, my extended family. I love staying in, I love dusk in the summertime. I love the fall season. I love unexpected gifts.
I love days off from work, new pens, a new journal, gray eyeliner and orange lip gloss. I love being warm and cozy in bed, sleeping in late, hot bubble baths, exercising, hot showers, using Wen.
I love buying lottery scratch off tickets, meditation, reading and writing. I love watching movies. I love writing or meditating with a group of people. I love discovering new places I’ve never been to before. I love music, the first few warm days of spring. I love Shirley Manson, Garbage’s music, Blondie’s music.
I love to learn new things, expand my knowledge, do research. I love shopping for new dresses and handbags, and shopping on the charity website- thehungersite.com.
I love getting ‘likes’ after posting an entry on my blog. I love to fantasize, to be quiet and observe. I love weekends, going out to eat Mexican or Chinese food or Italian food.
I love Europe and the effortless style of many Asian women. I love minimalism, not owning so many possessions. I love taking walks, listening to my Ipod or not.
I love comfortable clothing, and wearing things that absolutely suit me and my personality. I love my zumba classes, and dancing as a fun way to exercise and burn calories.
I love being free from debt, remembering my dreams, burning scented candles, going to the library. I love discovering new aspects of myself, and new interests to pursue. I love museums, live musical performances, plays, theater, going to concerts, watching artists draw or paint.
I love wearing jewelry and fancy perfumes. I love my beige, Longchamp handbag, all my furniture, my books, the apartment I live in that’s in a quiet, private home on a quiet street. I love working from home.
What do you love?
Prompt: Is being “normal” — whatever that means to you — a good thing, or a bad thing? Neither?
I don’t think that ‘normal’ is a term that can apply to anyone really. I think we are all different. Saying someone is normal is almost like implying that they are somehow better than other people, which I do not believe.
For some people, ‘normal’ has a negative connotation. It can bring up ideas of being boring, stale, stuck in a rut or the same old routine. Normal can mean the opposite of exciting to some people.
I don’t know what ‘normal’ is, and I don’t think anyone really does. Is it normal to get married, have kids, and own a house? For some people that’s a dream, for others, it’s a nightmare.
Is it normal to be cautious or free-spirited? I think that whoever you are, what you have a tendency towards and an interest in, is perfectly normal for you because you are a unique human being.
I don’t think it’s normal to stay in one place and never grow. I think it’s important to branch out of one’s comfort zone every now and then and explore the horizons beyond one’s everyday life.
Living in this society, people like me are made to feel abnormal since I am in my 30s, female, and unmarried. It’s hard to deal with the expectation of marriage and wonder if I will ever get there. It’s something that is pointless to dwell on, because it either happens or it doesn’t.
Being single and marrying later or not at all has become something of a norm these days. I could be meant for something else in my life, and doing something as conventional as getting married maybe doesn’t fit into the ultimate plan for my life and what I truly desire out of it.
There are worse things in life than being alone. I have dealt with that status for so long that it feels practically natural and normal for me at this point.
I think most people balk at the idea of normal or a ‘standard’ for living one’s life. Everyone’s idea of happiness and success is different, and that’s fine. It’s what makes up the human tapestry, and makes the world interesting and fascinating. Without differences, no one would ever be inspired, there would be no magic in anything, no mystery. And that would not be a fun way to live at all.