Being Boswell

About BeingBoswell

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
through writing.

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.

Patricia Boswell

Who Am I?

I try to make a practice of answering the questions I ask myself. You know the ones. The rampant, seemly benign questions that run through your head at break neck speed. Often we don’t even hear ourselves asking them. As a therapist, I hear my clients questions of themselves. It is always easier to hear others questions.

 

So last week when I asked, “Who am I?” or, to be exact, “Who the hell am I?” I set out to answer myself, again.

 

Interestingly and serendipitously my answer came as a result of renaming this blog to being Boswell. My friend, Wikipedia, informed me that the surname Boswell was passed into the English Language as a term…Boswellian, Boswellism…meaning a constant companion and observer of life, especially one who records those observations through writing. Who knew?

 

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, 40 some years later, with the technological creation of the über diary.  I write you read. I feel blessed.

 

I have been being me all along, I just didn’t know it!

 

Take a look at this…it is a scene from Sherlock Holmes talking to Watson. FInding my name has been very validating…

www.youtube.com/watch?v=xhYbY_JO2S4

Patricia Boswell

Work It by Paula Martinac

Paula is a guest writer who responded to the  Audience Participation invitation.  Read more by Paula on NutritionU

 

In the whole maddening “conversation” about the health-care bill now under scrutiny by the Supreme Court, I realize that the most important thing to me is health. Not just mine, but my partner’s… my dog’s… my biological family’s… my clients’… my friends’… I even care about the health of people I’ve never met!

 

I’m now blessed with good help, to use a common expression. Because it IS a “blessing,” as those of us who’ve been seriously, life-threateningly illness can tell you. A lot of people take their health for granted until they reach that “life-threatening” point. If you get a second chance, as I did, you start to think a lot about what you might have done differently, what you might have done earlier. You start to want to encourage others to think about it, too.

 

So here’s my spiel. Continue Reading

Patricia Boswell

About BeingBoswell

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
through writing.

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.

Patricia Boswell

Who Am I?

I try to make a practice of answering the questions I ask myself. You know the ones. The rampant, seemly benign questions that run through your head at break neck speed. Often we don’t even hear ourselves asking them. As a therapist, I hear my clients questions of themselves. It is always easier to hear others questions.

 

So last week when I asked, “Who am I?” or, to be exact, “Who the hell am I?” I set out to answer myself, again.

 

Interestingly and serendipitously my answer came as a result of renaming this blog to being Boswell. My friend, Wikipedia, informed me that the surname Boswell was passed into the English Language as a term…Boswellian, Boswellism…meaning a constant companion and observer of life, especially one who records those observations through writing. Who knew?

 

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, 40 some years later, with the technological creation of the über diary.  I write you read. I feel blessed.

 

I have been being me all along, I just didn’t know it!

 

Take a look at this…it is a scene from Sherlock Holmes talking to Watson. FInding my name has been very validating…

www.youtube.com/watch?v=xhYbY_JO2S4

Patricia Boswell

Work It by Paula Martinac

Paula is a guest writer who responded to the  Audience Participation invitation.  Read more by Paula on NutritionU

 

In the whole maddening “conversation” about the health-care bill now under scrutiny by the Supreme Court, I realize that the most important thing to me is health. Not just mine, but my partner’s… my dog’s… my biological family’s… my clients’… my friends’… I even care about the health of people I’ve never met!

 

I’m now blessed with good help, to use a common expression. Because it IS a “blessing,” as those of us who’ve been seriously, life-threateningly illness can tell you. A lot of people take their health for granted until they reach that “life-threatening” point. If you get a second chance, as I did, you start to think a lot about what you might have done differently, what you might have done earlier. You start to want to encourage others to think about it, too.

 

So here’s my spiel. Continue Reading

Patricia Boswell