I definitely see the value in keeping a journal. For the majority of the first two years of my IHC journey I faithfully kept a daily journal. I would write about the highs and lows of the day. I would write down my acts of kindness. I would write about what I have to be grateful for. This was the one requirement that really helped me stay engaged. It kept my heart and mind in the game.
This summer I have allowed mediocrity to slip in and the journalling has stopped. If this is the number one requirement that keeps me engaged - why have I allowed this to happen? The answer is complicated.
I did go back and read my journals for the past two years. They hold so much... My journey has not been easy. They are filled with truimphs and tears and then more tears and frustration and overwhelm. I had no idea of what life would look like when I signed up yet I am so grateful that I did. The people, the requirements, the accountability has often been what has kept me putting one foot in front of the other. My journals tell a hard, emotional story of someone who just refused to give up. The story is mine yet it is not one I would have chosen. I suppose I would have chosen an easier journey filled with mountain top experiences. That easier story would not be filled with the hard lessons I have learned and the internal strength I have had to find. Perhaps with time I grow to truly appreciate that story but as of late it has left me feeling a wee bit funky.
Yet, here I sit with my journal and I just can't seem to open it and put pen to paper. That inability to act has then seeped into other areas of my journey. I know what I need to do. I need to just go open it.
The irony of the whole situation is that my sister bought me this journal specifically for this purpose. This is a picture of the front cover. For the past month I have allowed that cover to intimidate me instead of motivate me. So... I'm going to go sit down and write for at five minutes before I get ready to head to class.
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