Interestingly and serendipitously as a result of naming this blog
to being Boswell, I found myself. My friend, Wikipedia, informed
me that my surname Boswell was passed into the English
Language in the 1800‘s to mean a constant companion and
observer of life, especially one who records those observations
I have been writing stories or journaling since my first, locked,
with the tiniest key ever, diary was given to me in grade school. I
began my entries with Dear Diary. I quickly abandoned that
salutation when I realized I wanted to write to a reader, not to an
inanimate object. I longed to tell my version of life to someone. I
felt less alone conjuring a reader nodding his or her head in
shared recognition of an examined moment, possibly even
laughing or crying with me as I spilled my version of life onto the
page. I hoped my imaginary audience would feel less alone and
more understood as I exposed myself to self scrutiny.
So here I am, many, many years later, with the technological
creation of the über diary.
Being Boswell is a unique view of the everyday life. I use my own
life as my muse and my background as a psychotherapist as my
lens. Life is my teacher. I learn life’s lessons sometime gracefully.
Sometimes kicking and screaming. Eventually life wins and I write
from my surrender.
You will recognize yourself in my stories.
I am a work in progress…just being Boswell.