We have spent the last three nights away from home, from computers, Internet, and technology. I knew I wouldn’t be able to post to the blog, so I took my journal with me and wrote in it each night while we were away. This is the first entry, written Jan. 15 in the city of Ibarra, where we stayed the night on our way to Kumanii.
I am trying to write a little each day, but I am doing it on a blog, “Laura’s Writing Project 365.” Still, when I’m away from my computer or there’s no Internet access, I need a way to still get in my daily practice, so I turned to my journal. My sadly neglected journal. It has been 15 months since I last wrote here. So much has happened. So much has changed. So much water under the bridge. (Note: 15 months ago, when I last wrote in my journal, our family was visiting Spain with my parents (we were still living in Portugal), and Benjamin was only 1 month old.)
I used to be such an avid journaler, used to pour out my heart on lined pages at least once a week. But over the last decade, it’s really fallen by the wayside. I still “write” — in my 10-year journal, in my prayer/gratitude journal, on our family blog. But I’m not “writing my heart” in any of those places.
Honestly, I think the practice of writing my heart has must become too difficult in recent years. Too many conflicting feelings, too many raw emotions. Writing used to help me sort all those out, but these days, it’s almost like they’ve become too complex to deal with through the time-consuming process of writing. Or maybe, I’ve just become more busy and less patient. Easier just to push them to the back burner, to never really deal with them, and all the while they simmer, barely beneath the surface of the “me” I present to the world.
Not the healthiest thing, I realize. I think that is part of what I am trying to redeem through the practice of daily writing.