I have kept some form of journal off and on since I was a teenager.
Through my teen years, the journal was a place where I unloaded all my dreams, fears, frustrations, and angst. There were so many opinions and thoughts one could not voice in the adult world; writing them out on paper seemed safer.
Writing clears me out. I absolutely agree that the act of writing, the movement of pen on paper, is itself a very meditative experience. I start with just presenting my muddle and keep working through it, the pros and cons, the opinions of others, the ways I could solve it, or what would happen if I followed plan A vs. plan B.
At the end of three or four pages, I usually have my answer, or I know not to worry about it any more.
Recently, I have taken to journalling about all the positive things that happen in my life.
The thing is, we cannot trust our memories. Recent research is showing that we either forget or embellish them with events that did not happen.
As an example, I have a very distinct memory of being 5-6 years old, sitting in the doctor’s office, and having huge, fluid filled blisters on my legs punctured and bandaged by him. We had run through some grassy fields and I possibly developed an allergic reaction, hence the blisters. I still have the scars on my lower legs to prove my point.
But both my parents deny this ever happened.
So?
So maybe I saw this happen to someone else and took that memory to be mine. And maybe the scars are from something else. Who knows?
Then there is the negativity bias. In simple terms, it means that we are affected more by the negative things happening to us than the positive. There has been a lot of research done on this, and as I understand it, we remember the negative experiences, interactions, feelings, and emotions more than the positive ones.
We internalize the negative emotions. The embarrassment, the frustration, the anger, all these become a part of us. We feel these as bodily sensations.
On the other hand it seems the joy, the relaxed feeling, the excitement, these we let go of sooner, and our body and mind have a harder time remembering these sensations.
I am journalling all the big experiences we have as a family. For example, the trips we took, oh well, pre-covid, the soccer and basketball games we attended, any blockbuster movies we watched, any good restaurants we went to. The graduations. The college admissions. The houseguests and the wonderful conversations we had with them. The weddings we attended, anything about the decor or dress and makeup which popped up and grabbed my attention.
When I go back and read my journal, it just brings up feelings of happiness and satisfaction and contentment. My life does not feel like a blank slate. Instead, it feels rich and full and colorful.
I take a lot of pictures. I think I am the only one left on the face of earth who is still printing out pictures and making albums. What is more fun than sitting with a cup of tea on a cold winter morning and reminiscing about the times gone past? When the kids are in college and the house is quiet and still, I go over the albums and relive those happy moments.
Keeping a memory journal and looking at my pictures often gives me a sense of gratitude. I feel grateful to the universe for all that I have been given. And there is a sense of awe at the ways in which my story has unfolded so far. When my plans failed, I somehow still ended up in a better position. When my desires were fulfilled, the journal reminded me to be thankful.
Earlier this year, we had gone to a destination wedding–to Mexico. And I cannot tell you the number of times I have started a conversation with, “Oh, we haven’t travelled due to covid….” only to be reminded by my daughter that yes, we did have a week of vacation at a resort, where we had new experiences and met old family.
So remember, and be grateful!