Keep A Journal - Find Yourself

I’ll admit it: I have fallen in love with keeping a journal. For me, opening my journal and taking a pen in hand is like a drug. The mere act of doing so triggers a sort of Pavlov’s dog reaction in me. I immediately begin to slow down and calm down. I turn inward. The noise and motion of the world ghost away like morning mist at sunrise.

Journaling is not an act of record-keeping for me, although that is a side benefit. I do it because it is an exercise in self-reflection, and the tech-free process of writing by hand – much slower and more deliberate than entering text on a keyboard – is the perfect preparation for climbing inside myself.

Not only does it force me to think before I lay words indelibly down on paper, it also frees me from the distractions that come with the territory of digital writing tools like computers and PDAs. I don’t have to turn on my paper notebook and wait for it to boot up. It never freezes or crashes. I don’t have to read a tech manual to make it work. I don’t have to worry about the battery status. My words and the pages they are on are real. I can touch them. They will never disappear suddenly and forever into cyberspace. And my journal is extremely portable and quite tough. It can get dusty, I can drop it, leave it in the sun, take it into freezing weather … I can even spill a little water on its cover and it still works as it should.

As a freelance writer, I work on my computer. But I sort things out in my journal. It is my counselor and analyst. It never steers me wrong because it always steers me into me and allows me to hear my own voice and my own truth with clarity. Some of my most peaceful, illuminating and healing times are spent with my journal.

What I write on my computer is for others to read. What I write in my journal is for me – and only me – to read. Heaven help me if anyone ever reads my journals! Some people write their journals as if they are writing their memoirs: to be read by future generations. If I want anyone to know anything about me or the times I live in, I will write a memoir. My journal is too personal for that. And it is too honest. If it weren’t, it would be of no value to me.

The kind of journal you use matters. You should love it and feel comfortable with it. Moleskine is my journal of choice, and I have tried dozens of different kinds of notebooks from several countries. The fact that Ernest Hemingway used Moleskines adds to their appeal. The choice of pen is important, too. I have tried expensive pens, space pens and (I am embarrassed to admit this) hand-customized pens, but I have settled on the unassuming, inexpensive, off-the-shelf Pilot G-2 gel pen. I keep the mini version of one of these pens in my left pocket at all times. Another thing I am somewhat embarrassed to admit is this: I have become a journaling nerd. I am strangely drawn to Web sites like www.moleskinerie.com. Try going there and looking around. If you get an almost sensual thrill as you scroll through its pages, you will know what I’m talking about. It’s inexplicable. But there it is.

At first, keeping a book-type journal was difficult for me because, frankly, I had all but lost my ability to handwrite anything. Even writing a check had become a tenuous proposition. The tens of thousands of pages I have written as a freelance writer have been produced with my 10 digits on a keyboard – not with my two fingers and a thumb caressing a pen. But like most things in life, practice makes … well, perhaps not perfect, but at least pleasurable. A side benefit is that I can actually read what I write by hand now. n