Category: Annie DeMoranville

The Anger Journal: Finding A Way Through

 

A week or so ago, I wrote up a little short story on my anger journal. I felt like I should expand on that, considering it is working so well for me.

I know people keep gratitude journals, and I have to be honest, it’s never worked for me. But a few weeks ago I was watching a brief video by a monk. He gave a demonstration on letting go, using paper, pen and flame. Explaining that we cannot undo that which is done, but we can lessen its impact.

Words have power.

It resonated with me. I’ve been struggling with writer’s block, anxiety and unresolved, deep anger. And when Bixby was the victim of what was basically veterinarian incompetence that almost killed him in April, I went over a little cliff. When he began to get better, that’s when the adrenaline came down, and the anger ratcheted up.

That, combined with some other situations over the past year, created this cascade of anger and I had no idea what to do with it.

The idea of an anger journal had appeal. Just somewhere to put it all until I could find a way to deal with it in some way. I grabbed a blank notebook and dived in.

I wrote with violent fervor all that I felt I had no control over. Putting the angry thoughts down with pen onto paper, but also dumping all the energy behind it into the pages. Then I would close the book and walk away.

And there those words and all that angry energy stayed. I didn’t have to carry it. It was in a safe place, and if I needed to pick it up again, it waited for me.

I continued it for a week, every night I’d write down what I could not let go and then set it aside. It was a revelation. Each day my creativity got stronger, my energy was up, and I found myself genuinely happy throughout the day.

 

On day seven, I tore the papers out of the notebook and burned them.

 

And for the first time in months, I was back on track. Trying to suppress any emotion is like a cork in the bottle, it blocks everything, and it’s exhausting. The worst is it has no choice but to spill out at inappropriate times, with undeserving people.

I am still journaling. Still filling the notebook. Still burning the pages. But as the weeks have gone on, there are fewer angry words, fewer pages, as the energy dissipated.

You can have your gratitude journal, but for me, my anger journal is just what the monk ordered.

Instagram Short Stories: The Journal

This innocent looking spiral bound stack of papers hides big secrets.

Not clandestine loves.

Nor top secret codes.

No family mysteries, or long lost recipes.

Instead, it’s filled with anger and disappointment and frustration. Written down, locked away, relieving me of their burdens.

Much like Pandora’s Box, it must not be opened. Words have power.

#annieshortstories

Cuba: A Love Story

I am still trying to process Cuba and Havana. But I will tell you I left a bit of my heart there. It began with a snafu with our room reservations that showed us the heart of the people of Cuba. We were without a place to stay for all of ten minutes.  And our new hosts not only found room for us but made us feel like family before the day was out. Casa de Sergio y Miriam was only the beginning.

To a person, every Cuban we encountered was kind, helpful and full of joy. We were never lost for long or without a suggestion for something new to see. Someone always stepped in to help. And along the way shared their story with us.

And so many places to see. We spent our first day exploring the neighborhoods around our apartment. People watching as everyone went about their day in the narrow, colorful streets. I believe one of the reasons we met so many wonderful people was because we wandered the streets away from the tourist areas.

Havana is the perfect illustration of the idiom, “Don’t judge a book by its cover” because behind the aging facades were beautiful apartments, restaurants and shops. Hurricanes, age and economic downturns have taken their toll on these beautiful buildings, but the intelligence, ingenuity and hard work of the people of Havana have kept them, not only functional, but warm and inviting on the inside.

And even those that are completely abandoned hold their own fascination and tell a story, surrounded by the hustle and bustle of city life.

I traveled to Havana for research and by the second day had found most of what I had in my mind for locales. Art is everywhere, galleries are everywhere, both traditional and decidedly abstract and I filled my camera and notebook with examples.

This guy was ubiquitous

Once I felt I had what I needed, then I relaxed and soaked in Havana and all its charm.

There was the food:

Of course, the coffee.  Loved this presentation with coffee beans and sugar cane.

I found myself eating mostly vegetarian meals because everything was so fresh and tasted amazing.

VanVan’s was one of my favorite places – and had the best lemon pie ever, not to mention the great musical decor.

And speaking of music, it was everywhere. In the streets, on the buses (which we mastered), in the restaurants, on the plazas. It became the soundtrack of our days.

And then there was the architecture:

Plaza  Vieja is one of the tourist hangouts. It is almost completely restored, colorful and bustling with people from all over the world. We would hang out there at the end of our days, soaking it all in.  We walked miles each day exploring the rest of the city.

We took a double-decker bus one morning to explore areas outside Central and old Havana. We toyed with taking an old car, but opted for the open air bus instead. Riding in one of the 1950 cars was on my list, but our days were so filled, we were never able to fit it in.

We did find time to spend a day at the beach. Baby soft sand, clear blue-green water and palm trees. It was also fun to take the bus there, see the sights outside the city.

There is still so much to absorb from our trip. More story to tell and hopefully, I can do it justice in Underway. A special week for sure. And it is the people who I will carry with me. Kind, intelligent, hardworking and proud. And I feel like I have family there that I would happily return to visit.