Translation of chapters into a better language

**Note: I wrote this blog when the name of the site was “Confessions of a Chronic Self-Discloser” Later I make a reference to the name of the blog and then…well I doesn’t make sense when I talk about the title of the blog.


“All mankind is of one author, and is one volume; when one man dies, one chapter is not torn out of the book, but translated into a better language; and every chapter must be so translated … As therefore the bell that rings to a sermon, calls not upon the preacher only, but upon the congregation to come: so this bell calls us all: but how much more me, who am brought so near the door by this sickness … No man is an island, entire of itself … any man’s death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind; and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.”

John Donne (1572-1631)

Why is it that every blog I go to the blogger always has to mention his or her “passion for writing?” I don’t understand how anyone can have that deep of a relationship with word formations and sentence structure. I wouldn’t call what I do a love of any kind to the art of writing. I would more describe it as a rivalry with writing. It feels like a fight to get out what I really want to say and have it come across the way I want.

I have never kept a journal. I have absolutely minimal skills with spelling and grammar. I am surprised all ten people who will read this blog can even understand what I type. I certainly never would have chosen an English class as a favorite of mine in school. I felt this qualified me to become a “writer” and write a blog.

I still ask myself “why am I doing this?” each time I write a new submission. I know some people write blogs to make money. If a blog becomes popular enough then a blogger can get money for putting advertising links on the blog. When people click on them he/she gets a kickback. Some people do it because they have an interest in a specific topic and like contributing information to the field. Some do it for their “passion for writing” apparently. I am not really interested in any of those things.

I am pretty much alluding to the fact that I hate writing in a way. What’s funny about this realization is that all through school I always found myself sort of trapped in the siren’s song of writing. In grade school we had to do an 8th grade project. I chose to write a few chapters of a book. In high school we had a senior project and I wrote and illustrated a children’s book. In college to graduate we had to write a thesis – which most people figure is a requirement going into graduate school, but you would think that if I really hated writing this would have at least caused me pause when entering the only program at the entire college that still required a traditional thesis instead of a cumulative test pretty much every other program offered as an equivalent.

I guess this qualifies as a morbid calling of some sort.

I actually started this blog as writing practice. I post the things I write to challenge myself, because I have never been comfortable letting large masses of people see what I write. After years of being told by English teachers this was not my strongest area and “stick to art classes” as a possible future, I am kind of self-conscious about being judged. I don’t care if people make fun of what I write I just don’t want them to make fun of how I write. (Feel free to point out grammatical or spelling errors though. Those are purely mechanical and that is how I will learn, and I don’t want my grammar police friends to have an embolism over the wrong form of “their” “there” or “they’re”…so there! That’s right – I do know the difference :).)

I chose to write about everyday things at first because as a child I hated writing about me. I needed a challenge. If I wrote about research or psychological procedures I would be cheating and it would be boring for everyone but me. I love writing fiction and I have a wild imagination so I have endless ideas on stories. But writing about everyday things has always been hard for me. I can talk about my day for hours, but when it comes to writing it I really draw a blank. I chose the title of the blog because I felt it best described what I would be doing and me.

Self-Discloser is a counseling term. It is the act of the counselor revealing something about herself to her client or group. It is not an act of manipulation, but a natural confession of the soul that if done right will create an atmosphere and deepen the relationship of trust between the individuals or group. It is meant to be a piece of herself that shared with the group will open the doors for others in the room to feel comfortable sharing his or her own feelings. When I was getting my counseling part of my degree (I am a school psychologist, but I also have a counseling degree) I was known to do the Self-disclosure thing. Chronically.

Actually I feel what I am doing now when I write is actually translating my life chapters into a better verse. See how clever I am tying in the opening quote? Bet my old English teachers regret all the red inked negative comments in the margins of my essays! When I write down some of my experiences whether they be funny, difficult, exciting, whatever it is as if they are now transcribed emotionally as well. Plus I am creating a neat thing for my children to look back on when they wonder what it was like before they could remember. If my posts make someone smile, think, inspire, or simply frustrate them with the wrong form of “there” then I am glad to have stepped off of my island and contributed to the world in a small way.

Leave a Reply