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The first line of the first journal.....


The first line of the first journal in my journey of journals.

“That uneasiness that accompanied my 32nd birthday, that sadness, has not lifted. Like some intruder that follows me, keeping its distance, but yet never completely leaving. It has now been fifteen months, and it is still here.”
   

This opening line appears in a beige 5 by 7 journal written by P205 Pentel mechanical pencil in faint cursive, so faint one cannot easily decipher all the words in the sentence, in pencil, assuring the writer it could easily be erased. 

My father’s death one year before my son’s birth had given me a death and a birth to ponder on the same calendar day.  My annoyance at my father’s failure to share in my son’s arrival had complicated my grieving process.  The journal became my private avenue for metabolizing the disquieting dialogues between my head and my heart.    

For two years, this obscure journal lived hidden in my locked briefcase, brought into the open only for weekly penciled entries.  In these two years,  I managed to write my way through this grieving process, but began to adopt a more realistic approach to my life , marriage, career, and relationships. 

One of the last entries begins…..   “ I no longer criticize my friends for making unwise choices for their lives – at least they act on some options.  I do not always do as much.”

We cease blaming others and shift our focus on our own reactions to the world. We shift our focus to our internal world no longer the external world. Then, we begin to understand that it's not what happens to us but how we respond and how we think about what happens to us that determines the quality of our life.  Journaling has helped me sort this out over the past few decades.

So, where does this all lead?  Is it not all just some self-absorbed whining about one's life?  Yes, perhaps, but that is where we all begin. It's where we start our journals.  

In writing what is most impactful and important in our lives, we give a voice to feelings and perceptions, to the demons that torment us, and to the hopes, wishes and dreams that daily manifest before us.  That is where it starts. It can start with timid sentences scrawled onto scraps of paper; sentences that can become blogs, or books, or bestsellers, not by design, but by evolution.

Next – using different journals and journal formats…

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The End of A Love Affair

From my morning journal, April 1, 2011, 6:55 am. Friday

"My love affair with my new technology, like most love affairs, has taken me on a fascinating detour from my life. Reading of other’s lives has replaced my journal writing which has been my morning meditative practice for over 3 decades. The new technology has taken me away from my focus within; from the guidance of my inner being, from my Soul Center. 

Technology makes it all too easy for me to live on the sidelines of life, watching others live out their dreams. While I may envy them, or even judge them, yet I sit and watch them whether it be spectator sports, news, or facebook. 

My affair with this new technology is now over; the crush I had on my new Android has now subsided to a place of maturity. I have learned that technology needs to serve us as a great resource and not be seen as an American Idol to be dutifully worshiped. Technology allows the drama of other people's lives to unthinkingly intrude into my thought life, hijacking my own creativity and energy."

Beginning each day by coming to the page and placing pen to paper has been my morning meditative moment.  Thirty minutes of meditative writing shifts the focus from how others live their lives to what I want in my life.

If we are to live the life we are meant to live, then we must live it fully,  We begin by asking ourselves, “What do I want?,” “What do I desire?” and “What would bring joy into my life?”

 Now, the return to the blank page asks me to go inside, find some inner experience, question, thought or insight to place on the page.    (just like artists, poets, painters, and writers)

 
Writing from the inner world is a process that allows my inner guidance to be heard. Returning to the journal each morning is simply a way of calling to the inner guides,(my software wrote ‘guys) , "I am here. I am ready to hear.”

 
My morning journal pages reconnect me to the well of spirituality that can flow into my thought life, permeating and coloring the perceptions of my ordinary life which no longer appears so ordinary. Most importantly, writing helps me keep the drama of my life on the page rather than in my relationships.


In the weeks ahead, I'm writing a series of posts describing my experiences of journaling in various places, purposes, and formats over the past three and half decades.


Often, I can tell my clients, “In the long run, journaling can be your best therapist, years after you stop coming to see me.”  Just as it takes many years to "grow good tai chi, or have yoga be our meditative practice, so it takes years to develop this same relationship with the journal process.

Next week, the first line of my first journal…

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