It wasn’t a turning 30 resolution or a New Years thing. Instead, one night in January, without premeditation, I pulled down a beautiful blank journal my father in law gave me for Christmas and started writing.
Just that. An entry a night, except sometimes while traveling. And suddenly I had so much to say I needed a real blog, and found myself in the thick of so many questions and conversations.
Sometimes my entry for the day is a simple UGH SO TIRED. Sometimes it’s a page or two. At first I struggled with what to write, but now I ask myself, “What do I want to remember for today?” Maybe I want to get out my worries, or catch a moment with my children in amber, or list the things for which I’m most grateful. It depends on the day.
I’ve kept a journal before, most consistently in high school, but never as a daily kind of deal. This is something new for me. Sometimes I’m looking forward to my journal by nap time, and sometimes it’s just a last hurdle between me and my sweet pillow. Either way, it always feels like something worth doing. If you don’t already, you should give it a try.