Journal writing has been a very therapeutic, and satisfying practice for me over the years. Once you put down an event, emotion or internal monologue on the paper, it relieves you of the mental noise and gives you a sorted perspective of a situation or the self. I have regularly been writing since 2015, and a flip through of the pages of my diary gives me an account of my creative growth over the years.
The idea of keeping a diary appealed to me since childhood. It was the time when nobody wrote either in family, friends or neighborhood nor we were exposed to the sitcoms of teenagers where they are shown to jot down their life in fancy diaries and slipping it under the pillow or inside the wardrobe or any such novels and stories depicting the same.
“Who writes a diary?”, I once asked my father when I was ten years old, and he said, “anybody can write. You can also write in a diary.” “But what do people write in it?”, I asked again.
Papa said, “Anything which you feel is important or interesting to you, can be written down.”
My father then encouraged me to write about the first rose which had bloomed in our plant and about which I looked very excited. I debuted with a short write up on “My First Rose Plant” and used that diary well for the next two years. After twenty plus years that notebook is still with my mother with a label of my name and class.
Those worn out pages have not only endured all these years but also my poems, trivia on health and sports which I loved to collect, “Quotes” my love then & now, and the record of the events which my brother and I used to hold along with our friends. We were a creative lot, and in the absence of interruptions from satellite channels and the internet, we relied more on our ideas and creativity. We had formed a “Nehru Club” and held: fancy dress competition, singing and dancing competition, and the likes amongst us. My old diary has preserved all those innocent undertakings and my childhood!
Here is a poem from that old diary composed by ten year old me. I have never shared it with anyone till date. Now my wisdom to look at my follies and accept them has rendered me enough courage to release it from the closed pages and young age shyness:
I saw a black bird in the season of spring,
She was looking black and sang beautifully.
I wanted to catch her; but she was very alert
When I went her nearby; She flew up in the sky!
After a few years as I grew up, I grew out of the habit of writing. I was happy to jot down some quotes or poems here and there randomly. The random writings continued till 2015.
Somehow, I picked up my habit again never to give it up.
My daily journaling…..!
Also, please don’t confuse journaling with a dull habit of scribbling down everything under the sun about the day. There are many types of diary writing about which I intend to discuss through blogs or videos.
Thank you, Papa, for encouraging me to write and for a million other things which have helped me in self-discovery.
For now, here I am sharing some realizations which have been boiled in contemplation and laced with words:
Solitude not Loneliness (30/11/2018)
Solitude is that one friend who is there since we open our eyes for the first time. It is a faithful companion who if trusted sits with a mirror to show you your true nature, your longings, and purpose. If it was not for this pal one could get easily misled by the people and get lost in the crowd looking like one of them.
Solitude prepares us for the world and gives the courage to face it ingeniously and also provides assurance to be there, where we can go back to reclaim our portion of the soul which might get polluted in this crazy world.
Relations will come and go, but solitude ensures a presence for a lifetime in the best possible way. Preserve your solitude; for it does not polish your ego but polishes your wisdom to see if ego is right or wrong.
On Expectations (1/12/2019)
Expectation is like a double-edged sword in your heart. It pierces your heart, penetrating deep into the other person too, to whom you approach along with it. Some way or the other we install it inside us on the life’s path. Wise is the person who does not fall into the temptation of using it. As this sword of expectation continues to sit silently it eventually loses its power and purpose leaving behind a space between two people which allows not the wounds but love to grow.
“Vintage Style Journals” ,made by me!
Please share with me your experiences and thoughts about journaling. I wish to know how others do it.Also would love to hear if you would relish blogs or vlogs on journaling.
(I have been planning to do this for some four years from now.)