
I’ve been writing in my journals more often lately. There’s a journal in my purse, one on the armrest on my side of the sofa, and one next to my computer used primarily for work. At any given time, I pick up a pen and write down the date and time. It’s rare, but sometimes I just stop there. Why? There are multiple reasons but the most frequent one is fear.
Fear that once it’s written down, my feelings exist and therefore are real. I rarely read my journals after writing because I want to let my feelings live in the journal’s pages instead of inside of my mind. Does it always work? No. Does it work at all? Sometimes.
At one point, I started writing letters to God. This started to feel like a long-form prayer or confessional, neither of which I’m comfortable doing in the first place. I’m on a lifelong journey with my spirituality and faith. I remember watching Buddhist messages on TV at lunch with grandma. Then brought to a Christian baptist church on a weekly basis from middle school and onward to adulthood. Confusing to have both doctrines swimming around in my mind’s area of faith, even in adulthood.

A friend expressed her love of handwriting letters and we shared how it still feels special to open up our mailbox and see a personally addressed envelope. I couldn’t believe it when I heard that some schools don’t teach cursive handwriting anymore. These days, it’s considered calligraphy?! I understand that we can text and email which generates instant gratification. But isn’t the anticipation part of the fun? I remember a school project where we would write to a historical figure as if we lived in their time. It was one of the most engaging learning experiences in school.
By nature and nurture, I’m quite impatient. I’m that girl that interrupts people to finish their sentences. It’s my attempt to form an understanding of the conversation and stay engaged. My mind wanders especially when I’m near multiple conversations as a listener. Writing gives me focus on the sentence and the single recipient. It’s intimate, private, and all done in my own time. Quality over quantity when writing letters to my friends.

Journaling is much more casual as it’s for my eyes only. I can’t stop anyone from flipping through it when I leave it on the table but honestly, why would anyone do that? I’ll be right back, just talk to me if you want to know something 🙂
Anyhow, hope you’re hanging in there, wherever you are reading this. Thank you for sticking around to the end with me!