I’m sitting here on my bed in North Carolina, wistfully thinking about my husband. It’s now past midnight and that means it’s his birthday.
I don’t like being away from Karl on his birthday.
Some might argue that it’s just another ‘day in the life.’ But I like to make a big deal out of and celebrate the acquisition of another year of experience under our belts. It’s a measurement. A milestone.
Some years are harder to navigate than others. Some are so delicious that we never want them to end. Some slip by and feel as though they only just started, when we suddenly turn around and they’re over.
All I can say is, I’m grateful to have this man in my life. He’s my partner; my best friend.
We’ve grown together in ways I’m sure neither of us could have imagined when we met 42 years ago next month, not least being the magic we’ve encountered exploring the perspective on life I’m sharing with others this weekend at this Listening Retreat.
I’ll miss him at the retreat this weekend. He’s always been there to hold space with me, to sit across the circle and meet my gaze, to share a smile when I needed it most.
It’s important to me that he know how much I wish he was here. And how happy I am that he’s made it through another solar return.
Happy birthday, my love.
*Something only Bregma House people will really ‘get.’
Yeah, I know I waxed rhapsodic over my new journal last night. I assure you, it was heartfelt. Truly.
I’m also a real pain in the behind with my clients over keeping a journal. I must bring it up about 15,000 times during a session, and if not quite that many times in the session itself, then most definitely in my follow up correspondences.
I’ve witnessed first hand the myriad times I’ve benefited from having written down my internal observations and feelings. Truly, those times are virtually countless. From documenting details that have served me in great stead to recall, to purging myself of emotions and accusations that could easily have led to vast heartache and further misunderstanding had they been expressed outwardly, to another person, my journal is in fact my very best friend.
Making Connections Helps Us Make Sense of It All
I’ve also seen the proverbial light bulb go on above people’s heads (usually my clients or students – most being both, turns out) when they experience that zing of excitement when a message or experience from the past (which they wrote down) somehow links with an experience or encounter now – and the dots connect in ways that reveal something much greater than they ever would have imagined (or even remembered, had they not written it down in the first place).
It’s in the details. It’s part of honoring our process. And our process includes feeling our fears, figuring out what we want, describing and immersing ourselves in our really sad and depressed days, expressing our dreams, and reveling in our triumphs – both inner and outer.
I can’t declare more passionately how essential I feel it is to our own self-awareness and growth that we capture on paper (ideally) (but electronically will suffice) (beggars can’t be choosers) (I’ll take a win where I can get it) (I’ll stop speaking in parenthetic phrases now) our innermost understandings of ourselves.
That’s why I keep coming back to the importance of journaling again and again.
Revelations Often Come Within a Single Entry
One of the fascinating things about the transformative nature of journaling is how, more often than not, at least in my experience, the transformation actually takes place within the journal entry itself. Meaning it’s not over a series of journal entries that major shifts take place. That happens for sure, sometimes.
But time and time again, I have sat down with my journal and felt something – some emotion, perhaps, or held an exceedingly strong belief about a particular subject – and by the time I have allowed myself to sit and write and contemplate and perhaps write down all my options, or given voice to all the possible reasons why something may have unfolded the way it did, I notice a distinctly different feeling within myself.
Usually I’ve achieved a sense of peace. Almost always, even if I still have no idea how I want to move forward or what I may be walking into next, I know who I am and how I feel in that moment.
My Journal is My Best Friend
Journaling helps me know who I am. It helps me understand why I think, feel, and behave the way I do in any given moment. And because of that, I think journaling helps me love myself.
Quite honestly, I can’t think of a greater gift I can give to anyone else. That’s why I recommend it like a broken record to anyone and everyone I live with, work with, or care about.
So with all of what I’ve just written, knowing that I have some 63 journals on my library wall and a fresh brand-spanking-new journal just waiting for me to initiate it, you’d think I would have christened that baby today, wouldn’t you?
Well, let me dispel that illusion. In spite of my best intentions…there’s always tomorrow.
