Invisible Writing

If I couldn’t publish, I would still write. I will be forever indebted to Julia Cameron for introducing me to the concept of ‘morning pages.’ It has become a combination journal/diary/planning book;  a way to gather the threads of my life and focus on daily happenings. I consider this my ‘invisible writing’...writing that is meant for my eyes only.

It is a special period in my day set aside with little routines. I always write at the desk in my bedroom. A scented candle flickers on the desk’s upper shelf. Cheap ball-point pens are stashed in a nearby drawer to prevent a halt in the writing when a pen runs dry. I finally settled on five-section spiral notebooks and even fill-in the blank divider page if I’m flowing.  

What I write to cover those lines that I do my 'two pages' every morning is never meant for publication. This is a private conversation with myself which enables me to clarify my thoughts and feelings. My ‘morning pages’ is the way I add concreteness to my abstract impressions and judge whether they are worth pursuing or not.

Writing, the act of writing itself, is an endeavor that satisfies something deep within. I've come to realize that through the act of putting words on paper, I can make sense of my world. It sorts out jumbled thoughts and helps me consider in a very direct manner those feelings and convictions I feel deeply. The ‘morning pages’ is a special writing that I try to practice every day that is just for me. It is my ‘invisible writing.’