It’s a feeling I’ve only experienced four times. It happens when I peel the wrapping off a new journal. I sit it next to old one and find myself surprised at how white the pages of the new one look. The old journal has walked through six or seventh months of life with me, and somehow has become beat up, yellowed, dented and in some cases torn.
But doesn’t that make sense? If the journal is capturing my life and thoughts, shouldn’t it carry the same kind of battle wounds it feels like I’ve had?
I think what excites me about the new journal is looking at the potential of what that book will contain; it represents the next six months of my thoughts, experiences and life. It makes me wonder what new insights will come in the next season.
Also, there is something about holding a completed journal and knowing that the last six months were real and tangible. It’s a confirmation of my growth and development, and perhaps most importantly, insight into who I am. As I flip back through the completed journal, I see prayers, sermon notes, joys, frustrations, quotes from friends and authors, reflections on my daily life and tremendous vulnerability at committing my feelings into words.
This rare feeling that comes with that new potential makes me wonder, where else is that available in my life? So much of what I do feels routine (because I thrive on routine) and maybe that gets in the way of seeing promise in the future. I love the journal because its impending contents are unpredictable. Maybe what I need is to let go of my routine and live into the unpredictable.
"So much of what I do feels routine (because I thrive on routine) and maybe that gets in the way of seeing promise in the future."
ReplyDeleteI've been pondering this sentence, mostly the use of the world "thrive." So often I make my life comforting, think I'm thriving, and then get bored. Meanwhile, I forget that enjoying life is different than thriving. I've been contemplating discontentment recently, and perhaps the ennui in my life is because I've been pursuing comfort, rather than venturing out into the land of unpredictability. Thanks for reframing thoughts that have been meandering through my mind recently.
--Annie
Write on!
ReplyDelete"I think what excites me about the new journal is looking at the potential of what that book will contain."
ReplyDeleteThat has always been my favorite thing! What will I find out about myself, how will I grow in Christ, what amazing stories will it hold?? So exciting!! :)
why journal, when you could blog? ;-)
ReplyDeleteDan, that's a really good question, because I obviously do both. They serve different purposes. My journal is intended to be a record of my life. It isn't a processing tool for me, it's a tool to track my development. I blog because that's a way for me to refine my writing, develop my storytelling and see the world around me in a new way.
ReplyDelete'tremendous vulnerability'
ReplyDeleteThose are the words I'm searching for. :) Why does journaling feel so vulnerable? It's just a journal after all - a notebook with random inner thoughts and daily life. Why do we feel such fear?
Erin, I think that putting things to words makes them real. When I capture something with language, somehow that commits me to what I'm saying. Opening myself to that reality, even if I'm the only one who reads those words, means that I'm being vulnerable. Perhaps just voicing those inner things exposes them to this world and that requires an understanding that not immune to the world around me.
ReplyDelete