For many of my friends, photos are how they capture memories. I, on the other hand, rarely take photos. I’ve always preferred to capture life’s texture in my journal.
Writing has been my favorite way to process life and my emotions since I was little. My journal was always a trusted friend who could help me understand why I was feeling what I was feeling, and often helped me uncover what I needed to know or do to be ok.
I addressed many of the entries in my old journals to my future self, who I imagined would want to know even the most mundane details of my childhood.
In diaries with cartoon cats or collaged with song lyrics I wrote to her about horses, my best friends’ crushes, strange dreams, and unrequited love that I was certain would sting forever. I can still recall the heartache of losing our family’s dog and the excitement and pride of getting a solo in my high school’s production of Godspell.
Even though some of my then sincere diary entries are now unintentionally funny, reading them carries me me back to that snapshot in time and reminds me that I can survive whatever life throws my way. And that happy moments are more frequent than they may seem when current times are heavy.
Surrendering how you’re feeling into words can be liberating and cathartic. Worries that have been whirring in the back of your head are soothed and feel a bit more manageable and less overwhelming when they’re peeled out of the furthest corners of your mind and transferred to the page.
Occasionally, wisdom you didn’t realize was at your fingertips surfaces and you get a clearer, lighter glimpse of what life can hold for you.
Will you write with me this week? Join me for this journaling prompt:
Write a love letter to your high school self. What does she or he need to know to be ok?
Write this letter by hand, in your notebook or journal, for 10 minutes. Don’t worry if you get stumped; just keep your pen moving on the page, even if it means repeating the same sentence over and over.
Here’s to uncovering the comfort just around the corner.