I’ve started journaling again.
In the past, I’ve journaled whenever I felt like it, which always translated to “when I’m feeling sad”. Who wants to spend their happy time writing about how happy they are? Pssh. That’s the time for living instead, isn’t it? I have a few half-started notebooks filled with a few fun stories I’d forgotten about, the occasional narrative of a “milestone” event like a boy telling me he liked me, and many lines of “today I didn’t do anything and I feel guilty about it” and the likes.
It’s funny to read these types of journals back. First, because those milestone events really are golden material. But second, because you notice the exact same patterns year after year. Slightly modified, sure, but the essence of your personality is still there. Some harsh but hilarious truths get uncovered, that’s for sure!
In three days I’m turning 21, and I figured there are two things that my 70-year-old self will be extremely grateful that I start doing consistently right now:
- Investing my savings, and
I think a lot about my 70-year-old self. Mostly I just hope she’s doing okay. I also hope she can be patient and wait her turn as long as possible. Even 21 years went by much too fast. (Heck, I write like I’m already 70 years old.)
So, every day since January 1st, I’ve sat down to write a few paragraphs. I don’t do it in a notebook because it takes longer and would be impractical to store or carry everywhere, although I like the disconnect with a physical notebook. I also don’t do it in my bullet journal anymore as that gets cluttered quickly, and sometimes people ask to see my bullet journal.
One thing I carry everywhere is my laptop. So instead, I write on a word processing application for writers that I won a discount code for 6 years ago during NaNoWriMo, called Scrivener. It’s nice that way, because “at the end” I can just print out one huge manuscript of my life and thoughts. It’s searchable, too, if I ever need some advice from myself.
I focus first on writing out the basics of what I did that day, and then elaborate on how I felt, and sometimes what I’m thinking about.
It feels like stretching old muscles. First, my writing muscles, because I’m sitting typing and getting used to turning the gears quickly in my rusty introspective brain. Also, my thinking muscles. On January 1st I didn’t really have much I could pinpoint as “being on my mind” besides feelings. Now, I’ve filled up pages with thoughts on loving the city, falling behind in work, guilt and happiness. It’s like life gets more colourful when you spend some time actually reflecting on it.
My conversations are more interesting, too.
Mostly I love that it’s some time with myself. So far, my practice is physical time with myself through fitness, and psychological self-care through journaling.
The end. That’s it. This was just a quick blog post that started as an Instagram post and became something a bit longer. Bringing these back! As always, I love to chat! Let me know what your thoughts are too. 😉
Do you journal? Similar to me or different?
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