Journaling always seemed to be a romantic ideal, something out of a Jane Austen novel, where a person’s confidential thoughts and feelings should be safeguarded under lock and key.
I was drawn into the elaborate designs and materials that covered the blank pages of these mysterious paperback and hardback record-keeping books that greeted me in the front section of Barnes & Noble.
I bought more than one of these elusive treasures only to find myself stumped about how to fill the pages.
More than that, I was completely baffled as to how to be diligent or find time to sit down and write about myself (let alone how to write honestly for fear of others’ eyes reading the page).
The allure continued, and while reading the book Paris Letters by Janice MacLeod, I was introduced to another book, The Artist’s Way, by author Julia Cameron. In it were keys to becoming unblocked, which all started with…journaling.
The author took away all demands of writing perfectly or using the journal for fleshing out stories to be published and gave permission to write free form, stream of consciousness if necessary.
She encouraged the writer to limit daily journaling to three pages, and I decided to take her up on her insistence that this becomes a daily habit.
That was 2015.
Since then, I have broken through the unseen boundaries that kept me from expressing my thoughts, feelings, prayers, and ideas on the page, and have filled more than one journal per year.
Do I cringe at the thought that one day, one of my kin will read those pages? Of course, yes. Then the reality of my boys ever pouring over those pages hits me, and I realize that they will most likely end up on the shelf of an antique store or in the hands of a great grandchild instead.
But that’s probably the stuff of Jane Austen novels, after all.
For me, journaling has been a journey of understanding myself, the way God has designed me, and discovering my most important desires. Even when the same thoughts and cries kept appearing day after day, I wrote them down. It enabled me to make decisions about the words staring me in the face. They became prayers for help and slowly ways to bring about change.
Prioritizing this action has brought immense clarity along the way. Because it is now a regular pattern, I break the “rules” and journal whenever the prompt surfaces and at any time of day. Because it has brought so many benefits along the way, when I veer too far from it, I force myself to make room for it once again.
Journaling is not a male or female practice. It is not an old idea from a bygone era. For me, it is a gift. It is a respite from the world for a few minutes and a key to unlocking the treasure inside of me and inside of you.
– Carissa