"You mean - you're journaling in unlined pages?" asked a new writer.
"Yep," I answered.
"I never thought of that," he said. "It seems - I don't know, scary. But I guess it would be more fun, wouldn't it?"
Writing on unlined pages is scary to those who have been tamed and caged and lined. To be released into this uncharted wild seems threatening. One morning last week, I got up at 3 am and wrote:
Here I am, craving wildness, willing to risk my normal life and uncage my thoughts and roam the wilderness without lines or familiarity. Faint white lines can be like the stripes on a freeway, keeping you in place. They keep you safe and civilized, and remind you there is a road map showing every exit.
Thing is, writing is NOT driving a vehicle. It is all right to take creative risks: they won't hurt you. One may become lost in wild places, may reach and climb where there is no one to guide.
What I learn: there is more wisdom and freedom and grace in the unmapped hinterlands than in the small spaces I keep to because they are known to me already.