“The impulse to write things down is a peculiarly compulsive one, inexplicable to those who do not share it . . . keepers of private notebooks are a different breed altogether.” (Joan Didion)
Where would I be without my journal? Who would I be without my journal?
My journal is my lifeline, my savior, my confidante, my forever friend.
The act of writing allows my world to come alive before my eyes. It invites me to seize and freeze images as a photographer might with a camera. Events haven’t really happened for me until they’ve been safely and carefully recorded by my hand. The written words reveal the potential of the moments, the potential of my life.
As far back as I can remember, people have questioned my incessant need to write:
“What are you writing now?”
“You’re missing it all! Put the pen down and look!”
“Why do you have to write that down?”
“How can you write so much?”
Wait a minute. How can I write so much? How can I NOT?
Journaling has gifted me with insightful tools: introspection and reflection, remembrance and awareness, recognition and appreciation. I see who I am with astonishing clarity.
Where would I be without my journal? Who would I be without my journal?
I began to know and to trust myself through my journal writing. My words have connected me through the years with who I am, who I have been, and who I will become.
Sometimes tears hit the paper, smearing my words. At other times the page is filled with angry exclamation points and capital letters. Sometimes the mood is light – smiley faces are interjected between sentences.
My journal proudly displays my personality, succinctly captures my essence, neatly sums up my existence. Grief, joy, wonder, rage, disappointment, peacefulness. All have been documented and preserved.
When I am doubting myself, when I am questioning my intentions, when I am feeling emotionally bereft . . . I simply open one of my journals and start reading. I dig in and begin to lose myself in the rhythmic cadence of my own words, recalling how I felt at that exact minute. And I marvel wryly at how situations have resolved, pain has dissipated, excitement has waned since the words were first written.
A lifetime echoed through the diaries of my past . . . morning pages dutifully filled with sometimes coherent/sometimes rambling thoughts and feelings . . . spiral notebooks overflowing with my expressions and impressions.
Where would I be without my journal? Who would I be without my journal?
My journal has always been my best friend, but somewhere along the way I’ve come to understand its real significance. My journal illustrates my unique and integrated life because the words are mine and only mine. My journal is unconditionally, startlingly April.
And now I fully embrace the truth. I have become my own best friend.
~~~~~~~
Do you journal? What has the experience been like for you?
[I was honored to have my blog post featured this week on CreateWriteNow: My Forever Friend. Thank you, Mari!]
I’ve never kept a journal, but I admire people that do. Occasionally, I will write a short story based on something that annoys me, but I write with humor and end up laughing. Wondering if you ever share your writing or if you prefer to keep it completely private.
that’s an interesting question, lori. i usually keep my journals private – i like having a safe place in which to honestly express myself. but many of my entries turn into blog posts, others become personal letters that needed to be written, still others are the first inkling of a new project or plan. i guess the answer is both!
I came to journalling “late” in life – trying to sort things out while my first marriage was crumbling. I really only embracing it as a true refuge, friend, confidante, catharsis and therapist during the 5 years that I was on my own, getting to know myself all over again. As prolific as I was then, as time went on, it fell to the realms of an occasional companion for a friend in need.
In the last 6 months, I’ve re-engaged with my old friend, and wonder how I did without it. Because of the completely unfettered nature of the writing, I’ve come to realize it carries the voice of my Soul. And the more I interact with it, the more clear it gets. I’m in love all over again!
what a lovely picturesque response, cathy. thank you for sharing that glimpse into your journaling life.
I kept a journal from the age of about 11 to 38. I had boxes of them. Then one day (it was a sad day and a day that made me open that box and really look at my journals, look at my experience of my past) I read thru every journal.
I realized I had not been learning from my journalling. It seemed as though I had written the same feelings over and over.
I sat down with that box by the fire and tore out each page one by one and burned them. I have not kept a journal since.
I made HUGE progress and positive life-changing changes after that. I sometimes wish I would feel pleasure from journalling but I don’t anymore. I am so aware that if I write it down, it somehow may cement it into my being and I want the freedom of not being glued to my own stories. I know it’s an extreme sort of ‘reaction’ and most people are not like me…I read your post thinking, how lucky for her! It makes me think…maybe one day I will keep a journal again!
such a uniquely interesting angle on journaling, susan. thank you so much for sharing it here. i love the rich symbolism in burning away stagnation, and emerging fresh from the ashes. i also applaud how you recognized what works best for you.
I can so relate, April. This is my experience of writing, too. I dance with my thoughts, process grief, heal wounds, find clarity, and feel the edges of my very being when I take pencil to paper. Thank you for sharing yourself so openly here.
you’ve painted a vivid and lively picture of journaling, sue ann. i too adore “dancing with my thoughts.”
April, I love this post as I am working on a free Journaling Challenge as an offering. Would love to talk to you more!
what a great idea, susie! let’s definitely compare notes.
April, I share your need to journal. I have stacks from teens onward squirreled away that I take out periodically to laugh and cry over. I am surprised by the evolution of my thoughts and beliefs over the years…just when you think you haven’t changed..thanks for this.
i also love to cozy up with my old journals and marvel at how far i have traveled, dana. thank you for your input.
I couldn’t agree more!! I have been keeping a journal since I was 10 years old and honestly, it is one of the most important things in my life. To not a a journal and pen with me at all times makes me feel naked! It is so important to me to write down my feelings, its nice knowing others can relate to this!
i can so relate to that feeling of nakedness without my journal and my favorite pen, heather!
My journals have huge gaps between writing/not writing through the years. I do love to revisit them and I’m shocked at the intensity of emotion that they can still stir up. Journaling is truly an gift and an art form and I applaud you for knowing your flow.
thank you, julia. and isn’t it amazing how rereading our journals can conjure up the exact emotional state that we were in when we first wrote the words?
I journaled for most of my 30s and then fell out of practice in my 40s up until Just recently. It’s so good to be back. I am more grounded, more centered, more soul-full when journaling is my forever friend.
welcome back to the journaling club, michelle! 🙂
LOVE this… I journal but not enough… but for SURE, when I feel distraught and incredibly uneasy, I turn to my journal and just write and write and write… it calms me and feels as if I’m able to share everything with my closest friend, and then all is well 🙂
i too tend to write more prolifically when i’m feeling down or particularly anxious about something. you’re right, kathleen – the flow of the pen across the paper truly has a calming effect.
Wring in a journal is a such a great way to gain introspective. Too look at yourself from another place at a later date and gain that insight of self. Like, privileged access to your own mental states encapsulated at the time you journal. Thanks for sharing.
“privileged access to your own mental states encapsulated at the time you journal.” profoundly stated, cathy.
April, I so love your last line here… “I have become my own best friend.” I so relate, and have also reached that point in this bittersweet journey of life. I’ve journaled on and off through the years, regretting that I didn’t journal during certain times when I would like to look back and remember, and yet feeling nostalgic and rather sad when I pry open those journals from those years when I did. So my thoughts around the process of journaling itself is also, bittersweet. Wonderful post, thank you!
yes, bittersweet is an apt word to describe the ups and downs of journaling, marci. the process and the words.
Journaling… Writing. I learn about my life here, open my heart, expand my knowing. It’s amazing, fascinating, healing and completely magical. I too, love my journals, although, I did burn a few some years back as a cleanse. That too, seemed to have magical powers 🙂
“and completely magical.” agreed, elizabeth. i haven’t had the heart to burn any of my journals (yet), although i can imagine the cleansing that might occur.
hello lovey 🙂 I have been using a success journal since 2005 and love it. I write my things to do, goals in each area of my life and record my wins and gratitude, values, it even has pages for a vision board. I buy it every year and get it shipped from South Africa. I tend not to use it as a diary though but it is fantastic for keeping me on my toes and accountable 🙂
farah! 🙂 i love the idea of a success journal (and i must see this special one from south africa!). the journals i’ve kept in recent years tend to have an all-encompassing theme . . . part appointment book, part recording and debriefing, part dreams/goals, part memento-saving.