Journaling

Years-worth of my internal ramblings

My mom set a good example and journaled when I was a kid, encouraging me to keep a journal. I have been keeping a journal for about as long as I can remember. When in high school, I threw away all my middle school journals (I thought they sounded stupid then- I'd probably just laugh at them now). Yesterday I found my journal from the year I went to Africa for the summer (ten years ago!). I have gone through different journal-type phases, sometimes larger sizes with room to sketch, sometimes smaller sizes for the convenience of traveling. And there have been dryspells, times where I did not write at all (months at a time, even).

I journal for myself, mostly. It is a way for me to sort out thoughts and express frustrations. I think the historian in me also feels the need to document my life (but really, all I am doing is documenting my crazy). Future researchers will probably end up more confused about my life after reading my journals. They should just stick to reading the eventual Wikipedia entry about me.

Blogging serves as another form of journaling (in which I attempt to hide the crazy for public viewing's sake). I still document my life, but I do it to share. When I write, I know very specifically of five people who will read this, all related to me (by blood or marriage). Maybe more read, I don't know; I know I am google-able. Sometimes I write with a point, sometimes I write just to post, and sometimes I just ramble.

Like today.

But sometimes when I externally ramble, all I am doing is sorting out my internal thoughts and ideas. I journaled extensively in my private journal this morning. It may not even make sense to anybody who may read it, but it helped me. And maybe in ten years, I will look back and wistfully think "wow, look how where I was contrasts where I am today." Or maybe I will look back and think "what in tarnation was going on with me?!" The latter. I am going to bet it will be the latter.