Ok, so that opening paragraph is dramatic, and perhaps belies what actually fell between the pages of my journal this week. It wasn't anything earth shattering, as this entry attests to:
Friday 1 November 2013
Golly gee wizz that came up fast.
So, so tired tonight, I don't think I can stay to write. Bed is calling.
Hardly anything, right? Right. (And yes, I really did use the words Golly, Gee and Wizz. I am that daggy). Still, the process of journaling and what it represents feels to me earth shattering. All those thoughts that clog up my mind have an opportunity to be immortalised on the page, to find their truth in ink. It's commitment of a sort and commitment is scary.
The entry I've shared above was my shortest throughout the week, and the least revealing. I did write about other stuff, including pondering 'where to' after my '52 Weeks of Now' journey comes to a close. I also admitted to myself that I regularly try to keep too many balls up in the air; wrote about my love of yoga teaching; and, wrote about the fun my son and I got up to during the week.
What this challenge pushed me to do was consider the jumble of thoughts in my mind and lay them out. Not all of them and not always in a way that gave me answers, but in a way that allowed me to become aware of them - not ignore them or push them away. It was an excellent practice of mindfulness, even if it was confronting.
I don't know if I'll keep the practice up. Probably not every day. I hesitate to suggest I 'should' do anything (I don't like that word at all), but I do think this would be 'good' for me. Maybe a weekly journal is the way to go. Something that gives me an outlet. A sorting process of sorts. Yes, I could do with that.