An Ode to Journaling
An Ode to Journaling
Mental health, introspection, vulnerability.
Hi, internet.
I’ve been thinking about writing this piece for a long while and have somehow been repeatedly met with my own resistance each time I put pen to paper, which is kind of hilarious, considering this is meant to serve as an ode to my deep-rooted affection for journaling.
The main culprit behind this resistance is actually the reason why I stopped aggressively scribbling between lined journals in the first place - eyeballs. Why would I continue writing if no one will ever read this? My grammar could use some work. How the hell did I make it through college? My hand is cramping. If someone ever gets their hands on this bad boy, they are going to think I am SO weird.
Self-criticism, fear of how others perceive me, and a lack of confidence in my abilities inevitably stomped out my journaling fire that began at a very young age. I’ve loved writing for as long as I can remember. Writing and English were my favorite subjects in school. I got a perfect writing score on the SAT with a “C’s get degrees” attitude on all other subjects. Some examples of my finest works: apology letters to my parents for breaking rules, chatty postcards to the tooth fairy (thanks for writing back, Mom), going on into the abyss about my stressful day in the seventh grade, writing down quotes from my favorite authors and artists so I could hold on to them forever. As I got older, the self-doubt parked a comfortable little seat in my frontal lobe and watched me try to journal from it’s peanut gallery. Even now, I’m actively attempting to write without fear of who might call me out on my misuse of the oxford comma or that I can’t remember if eyeballs is one word or two.
My journaling / “Dear Diary” career came to a halt halfway through college when I came up with every excuse under the sun to stop. I don’t have enough time. What do I even write about? Am I making any sense? What if someone DOES read this journal? All of these negative thoughts essentially robbed me of any creative writing ideas which inevitably disconnected my love for writing altogether.
And then…last year a magical fairy named Laura Rubin with AllSwell Creative twinkle toed right into my life, finger guns blazing, ready to help me fist fight my self-doubt.
It was November of 2018, the month of gratitude and also the month that I was struggling with so much internally that I was walking around feeling numb. If you know me, you know that “numb” is the very last word in Merriam’s dictionary that I would use to describe myself. I was in a dark place, extremely distant from my most authentic self. This month was my first introduction to Laura’s journaling workshops and it couldn’t have come at a more perfect time in my life.
The workshop was hosted in the evening in Venice underneath the trees at a beautifully set, intimate table. There were around 14 settings at the table, each with their very own AllSwell notebook and a satchel of Old Pal Flower. Also at the table were bottles of Madre Mezcal, fresh strawberries, candles, almonds, gorgeous ceramic cups from Oaxaca….it was dreamy, okay? With the workshop being right around Thanksgiving time and with the Malibu fires happening in parallel, our main theme for the evening was my absolute favorite - gratitude. After breaking open the Mezcal and individual introductions, Laura kicked off the evening with poetry and works from some of the greats. (“Write Drunk. Edit Sober.” - Ernest Hemingway) Then, the writing prompts began.
Disclaimer: I’ve never thought about sharing these personal writings publicly. However, they’ve given me so much, and my hope is that they might give a little something to someone else, too.
Prompt 1: What are you grateful for? You have seven minutes. Don’t stop writing.
I thought…oh, this is cake. I’m the queen of gratitude!
Sunshine. Lavender. Breath. Heartbeats. For my family and the love that has surrounded me like a cloud since the moment I arrived. Health. Earth. Optimism. Encouragement. For those who remind me of my light and for making me excited to continue. Fear. Yoga. Community. Best Friends. For always being reminded that a connection is a connection, no matter how long or brief. Guidance. Warmth. Love. Sunflowers.
Prompt 2: Pick one of the things you are grateful for. Write about it for seven minutes. Don’t stop writing.
I had an obsession with sunflowers at the time. My Mom’s favorite flower and a symbol of light and happiness. I was drawing them like crazy and always had a fresh bouquet in my kitchen. I decided to write about them because they were the most difficult to write about…at least the most difficult for seven minutes
Sunflowers. Just a flower, right? Something that inevitably dies, right? Sort of. What if we shift our perspective? What if, instead, we notice the beauty first. Put the sunshine first. Take a deep breath, inhale, breathe in the light smell first. Watch the petals blow in the wind, take a moment to embrace the beauty of freedom and fluidity…first. We so often shift our attention to the bad things first. Instead, what if we looked at every single thing’s beauty…first? The petals, the leaves, the heart of the flower is beating. Eventually it will die, but how gorgeous is it to soak in all the love it has...first.
This unpacked a lot for me. At the time, I was in a relationship with someone who I still admire, but there was so much rigidity between the two of us that it just wasn’t working when we were together. I was frustrated with differences on perspectives and the above writing made that clearer than it ever had been. A little flower.
Prompt 3: Highlight the words that stand out to you most from Prompt 3.
Sunflowers. Perspective. Breathe. Freedom. What if.
Prompt 4: Create a poem out of your highlighted words.
I’m trash at poetry, I thought, but the discovery that my sunflower writings provided left me eager to continue writing.
Sunflowers.
Taking a moment, just one, to shift our perspective.
Taking one single moment, just one, to breathe.
How much freedom do you feel?
What if we took more moments like this?
I drew a sunflower with the words “Be the light!” scribbled next to it.
…woah.
We wrapped up the evening, sharing our writings, our breakthroughs, and our discoveries. Every single person in the group left that night warmer and more comfortable with vulnerability than they were when the evening began. I walked home and immediately filled 5-6 pages until my eyelids were too heavy to open.
These prompts along with my responses might not seem like much to anyone who isn’t me, but going through the process shifted my entire life on it’s axis. My self-doubt dissipated into thin air just like the Old Pal Flower. Journaling is for me. Journaling is mindfulness, introspection, vulnerability, love. Journaling is FREE THERAPY. I can burn this thing when it’s full if I please because the process of articulating my thoughts and emotions is the whole point, not the end result.
Since that evening, I’ve completely filled my journal and started a new one with daily writings, drawings, yoga sequences, quotes (bless you, Brené Brown), words, and song lyrics. One page says “Ooh la la” in big bold letters and another says…something more profane. Some pages are filled with boring comments about my day, some lines occupied by bullets of my core values as an answer to a prompt from Deepak Chopra’s The Seven Spiritual Laws of Success. My AllSwell has traveled with me to Spain, New Zealand, Hawaii, Mexico…basically I never leave home without it. This journal helped me define what I want and what I don’t want in life from relationships, friendships, the way I allow others to treat me, and the way I allow myself to treat me. My journal, from front to back, is an evolution that reads much like the gratitude prompt process from Laura’s workshop. It’s been 11 months since I’ve rekindled my relationship with journaling and I cannot even begin to explain the shifts that it has encouraged in my life in this short period of time.
“We waste so much energy trying to cover up who we are when beneath every attitude is the want to be loved, and beneath every anger is a wound to be healed and beneath every sadness is the fear that there will not be enough time.
When we hesitate in being direct, we unknowingly slip something on, some added layer of protection that keeps us from feeling the world, and often that thin covering is the beginning of a loneliness which, if not put down, diminishes our chances of joy.
It’s like wearing gloves every time we touch something, and then, forgetting we chose to put them on, we complain that nothing feels quite real. Our challenge each day is not to get dressed to face the world but to unglove ourselves so that the doorknob feels cold and the car handle feels wet and the kiss goodbye feels like the lips of another being, soft and unrepeatable.
”
To Laura, thank you for the kindest gift anyone has ever given me. What doesn’t journaling (and the ocean) rinse off?
To the rest of you, thank you so much for reading…more soon.
Xx,
Rach