Samara O'Shea

Goodbye to Journal Number 11

I finished my 11th journal over the weekend. In the past, I’ve gotten so excited about starting a new one that I skip the final few pages of the old one. Not this time. I didn’t even notice it was almost done until I turned the page and saw there were no more. Maybe I’m becoming more patient in my old age.

This journal lasted from May 4, 2007 to November 2, 2008. Most of my entries were very long—a page at the least and eight pages at the most. Between those epic entries I found 14 very short ones that I’m glad to share with you. I’ll warn you first that some of these make little to no sense. Reading them, however, reminds me how much I love short entries—they capture fleeting moments and strange thoughts so well. I think I’ll try for more in journal number 12.

May 5, 2007
I just cut lilacs from my bush outback and put them in a glass vase. It feels like the most important thing I’ve done in a while.

May 12, 2007
May I never need anything but the rain. The glorious rain on my windowsill.

May 13, 2007
“It is but a shadow and a thought you love.” – Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King

May 20, 2007
I do assign meaning to the strangest things sometimes.

June 30, 2007
Last night was supposed to make me feel better and I feel even more far removed than before. I don’t feel bad—just uncertain and a little unromantically loved.

August 1, 2007
All of the sudden life went from being very noisy to very quiet. I can’t tell if I’m the outcast or if noise if just an illusion—made to let us think we’re getting things done.

September 17, 2007
I had a dream about Nick Conrad last night. He, his wife, Jesse, and I were in a log cabin. The wife kept fixing the elevator. Why it had an elevator . . . I may never know.

March 5, 2008
A remarkably hopeful sky this morning. The clouds have parted and the sun shines straight through—all the while the rain comes down.

March 9, 2007
I’ll have everyone know that I am not down for the count. There are more surprises in store. For everyone. Even me!

4 / 25 / 08
Then. All of the sudden there was this panic. Visceral panic. Like everything I had done so far was wrong. Irreversibly wrong.

May 6, 2008
Wrangling. Wrestling. Eat oatmeal out of the perfect bowl. Purity. Personality. Dancing till my feet are cold. Sitting on the mountain top waiting for a sign. With perfect lines and no tolls along the way.

May 10, 2008
I’m happy to report that the sky continues to be the limit.

July 30, 2008
It’s okay. It’ll be okay. Shhhhhhhhh. You’re doing what you have to for now. You’ll be fine. You give birth to new ideas everyday. It’s when you stop doing that. Then I’ll worry about you.

November 2, 2008
I made the mistake of thinking I couldn’t go any deeper. Foolishly thinking I had arrived at the center. As it turns out there is an ocean inside me. Pain invites me to the lower league. This is a blessing to know that I have father to go. To swim. To endure. And someday to arrive.