Over the last few years journalling has gone from one of my favourite pastimes to my most loathed.
I don’t know what happened, cynicism, tiredness, fatigue.
Actually I think a combination of all three.
I found myself in a place where the thought of pulling a journal out to write was painful.
I read my bible, drew and scribbled in its pages, I wrote my blog occasionally ( before 2012), I wrote little notes and left them all over the place but journalling became a little passé.
One of my September spring clean jobs is to clean out my journal box. I have a huge antique postal box from the 1900s and it is overflowing with journals.
The advent of the iPhone age, a time where I became quite discouraged in general though signaled the end of my prolific journalling.
Today I have realised it’s power in the realm of our hearts.
It is so important to have a safe place where we can express ourselves.
A listener that is completely partisan. The pages of a journal are Switzerland, and you find safety there.
The importance of finding a safe place to express for our heart is that we were not designed to carry all we do in our hearts, I believe we were deigned to let go and trust in a greater being.
That’s where journalling is so important. The blank pages make our hearts refresh and reflect. The blank pages as they fill provide a place of perspective and expression.
When we hold our thoughts and concerns to ourselves, they deeply burden our hearts and cause decay.
In the past I have found when I let go and I write down my experience, lessons, a short prayer, a big whine. When I express my thoughts through written word, my heart is cleansed and I am ready for a new day.
Journalling is not really in vogue at the moment, but I have realised that I desperately need it’s expression.
In some ways this blog is that, but I need more.
And I hazard to guess so do you.