Friday, August 17, 2007
The prompt over at Sunday Scribblings is "dear diary," a prompt that got me thinking about my first diary, a gift from my grandmother when I turned 10. When I explained to her that I had no idea what to write in that diary she told me to write down the weather if I had nothing else to note. So that's what I did for the first few weeks. And then, as I sat in my bed at night, I began to steadily record the details of my 5th grade life.
Grandma must have known me better than I knew myself. 30 years later I write in my journal nearly every day. What started out as the interesting activity of a bookish girl has become essential to my being. And these days, though I still have a journal stored in the drawer beside my bed, I mostly keep my journal on my computer. This blog is an outpouring of the habit. I also keep a garden variety composition book in my bag, for recording spur-of-the-moment thoughts and making lists. I spring for a new one at the start of every school year (the brand new '07-'08 edition is pictured here).
By now, I've written thousands of pages in my journal. I go back and re-read what I've written in years past and keep track of my (often secret) hopes and dreams by connecting with the history of my life. I'm recording my thoughts for myself, to remember my past and think about my future.