Back to the ‘journals’. I’ve documented a great deal of my life, as
if anybody will care. I’ve done it for me, and I must say, I do enjoy reading
back over the entries – one sentence will bring an entire day back.
For over 20 years I have
written pretty well every day – in a diary - ‘details’ rather than
journal. It’s very strange to see a big
chunk of your life lined up in a bookcase.
I have other journals too …
quotes, and thoughts, ideas sprouting and random memories. My first ‘beautiful’
journal that I bought was in 1983 – a red leather look, Kahlil Gibran one. I
was writing in when I got confirmation that I was pregnant with Ashley. The
entry says: "The rabbit died.” And no, I
did not cut off its feet or tail.
With three young children, a
demanding job and an ailing father, I couldn’t keep up with even a few lines of
daily writing. But rather than desert my
beautiful book when it was empty from March on, I ignored the dates and just
wrote about our life in general. I would
stick it away and not come across it for four or five years at a time. I was 29 years old when I started it and 46 when it was filled.
It was the new millennium
when I got to buy my next journal. I found one that was similar in size and
feel. The store clerk said to me: “oh, I don’t think you want THAT one … it’s
$25 – we have some that are much cheaper.” “I’m worth it.” I replied. I didn’t
mention that it would do me for the next twenty years.
I don’t work in it
regularly. Just like the previous one, I re-discover its existence every few
years. Yesterday, when I found myself
having time and being drawn to writing, I remembered it. I was not overly
surprised to find that it had been 4 years ... a wedding and two
grandchildren since I last wrote.
It’s a shame that I don’t do it more often – I
wish I did. It’s amazing to sit and read one’s entire life sandwiched between
the pages of a couple small books.
Children and grandchildren born, parents and siblings lost, kids growing
up and me growing old. It’s a humbling experience to sit with a book in your
hands that contains your life … to touch the actual paper that you wrote on, to
see the actual words from your own hand. And more so, from your own heart. Reading it on the computer just wouldn't be the same.
Instead of writing, I spent
the afternoon re-visiting my life. It
confirmed for me that I have indeed made the right decision to get back to
writing. To writing.
2 comments:
Ev - you MUST write - you are so talented! Enjoyed reading your raw and honest reflections of journaling and not journaling in the past. Your photography is amazing as well.
oh thank you, Rosella (blushing) ... you're so sweet. I do love to write. Almost as much as I like to TALK. lol
Post a Comment