January 3, 2025
Yesterday I was dismissed
Today I am ashamed
Tomorrow I will be ?
Tomorrow is a question mark
curved at the top
then heading down
A noncommittal dot
hanging
in the empty space below
If I erase the squiggle
above it
the dot becomes a period
Its ink final
Irrefutable
Like my father’s opinions
The end.
Nothing left to say.
Nothing left to do.
Or is the tiny spot a bottomless well?
A portal to some other realm?
The glossy pupil of my own reflection's eye?
If I stare at my eye-dot
long enough
will I see the future?
Or will I go mad
lost in a sea of punctuation marks
with bendy beginnings and definitive ends?Several days have come and gone since I wrote these lines. Six more opportunities to fill in the blanks of my yesterdays, my todays, my tomorrows. Time is change, and that day’s uncertainty is already flowing on down the river to join an ocean of cast-off emotions.
I learned the three-lined exercise beginning “Yesterday I was…” in a course called Ask a Therapist in A Writing Room (thank you, Emily Schreter). I don’t write a “Yesterday I was…” reflection daily, but something like it usually emerges in my Morning Pages—exactly three hand-written, letter-sized, spiral notebook pages—which I have completed every day since March 14, 2024 (thank you, Julia Cameron). Per Julia Cameron’s guidelines, I rarely re-read my sunrise scrawl, but nonetheless, the ritual brings peace and purpose. It is a chance to reflect on the past, ground myself in the present, and summon future possibilities.
What about today, then? January 9, 2025. Half of a divided nation mourns. The largest city in my home state burns. I feel callous for posting my inner musings. Inertia has me by the throat, and I can’t bring myself to pen something that might disrupt it. But I can fill in the blanks.
Yesterday I was numb.
Today I am heavy.
Tomorrow I will be writing.
Invitation
This post is a nod to daily rituals, a nod to consistency—even on the toughest days—a nod to writing as therapy, a nod to hope. It is also an invitation for you to fill in the blanks:
Yesterday I was ________
Today I am ________
Tomorrow I will be ________
Does your final sentence sparkle with the promise of transformation? Or does it shiver with trepidation? Do you feel obliged to end with something optimistic? (I ask because I have noticed this tendency in myself but resisted it on January 3rd).
To what extent does your past inform your present? What is the relationship between your present and your future?
Are you interpreting the prompt’s time frames literally? “Yesterday” as in the 24 hours that preceded this one? As in your childhood? As in the time before a life-changing event?
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So much in AWR that I haven't accessed yet, even after almost two years. Your words are a reminder to search out and accept what is offered. I'll be mining Morning Pages for my posts too, so don't tell Julia!
Thank you for reminding me about this prompt. Whether I use it referencing the literal 24 hour days or “Carpenter’s song” version of yesterday- phases, periods of time- I find it challenging. It’s a good measure of my anxiety level on any given attempt. It has potential to be hopeful and motivational, but sometimes reveals my fears and blocked places. Worthwhile either way.