I have kept a variety of journals over my lifetime. One for Church notes. One for dreams. One for prayer requests. One for my cancer journey. I even started one to keep track of my expenses. They all sit on my bookshelf, ready for when the urge overtakes me to re-read their contents.
I've always had this image of myself sitting in a rocker as an older lady going through all these journals, reliving the memories. Knowing myself and how much I love to keep busy, that might not actually be true.
Of course, I also hope the ones who come after me can use these journals in some way. In time of needed comfort or remembrance of me, maybe they can provide an aura of my presence. Maybe there will come a time that someone can actually benefit from my experiences.
But journals have always been a sort of a cleansing for me. When I have a huge problem, the first thing I do is open a journal for writing down my emotions, my requests and working through them with the mighty pen. This is my release. We all have one, some of us may not be aware of what that might actually be, but once we find it . . . we run to it.
I've journaled all of my life and nothing gives me more pleasure than watching the young women in my family journal right along with me. Consider it a passing of the torch from one generation to the next. Things like that never meant anything to me when I was a youngster, but they sure do now. Making memories with the people I love.
Have a Blessed day everyone.
No comments:
Post a Comment