End Of A Journal

I realized a couple of weeks ago that I only had about 15 pages left in my journal. I decided that I would start a new one on the day after my birthday. Which brings me to today. Today’s my birthday…#54.

So this morning, on this 54th birthday of mine (as previously decided by the internal council of Tim) I wrote the last entry in my journal. And what a journal it has been.

This journal was empty on October 8, 2017. That’s the day I bought it. My counselor at the time said I should journal. I responded by telling her that while I liked to write, I wasn’t very good at the discipline of a journal. She ignored my excuses and simply said, “you’re going to need it.” How incredibly prophetic.

I started writing in it the next day. I was at a place where it felt like every part of my life was getting way out of hand. Marriage, job, kids, friends, sense of place, even my soul – all of it was in disarray. 

As I wrote the last entry this morning, I was almost weepy. No tears, but a giant lump in my throat and very sentimental. This journal contains my soul. It’s been my constant companion over the last 2.5 years. It helped me get through everything I had to go through. It almost feels like laying a good friend to rest. 

And my heart is so grateful. Grateful that I made it through. Grateful that I truly do have some strength inside me. Grateful that I have become more aware and awake to the present moment. Grateful that I met with my journal on a regular basis. Grateful that I can return to its pages when the need arises and see how far I’ve come.

Now, I look at my new journal. All pristine and empty. I’m excited to continue the practice of journaling. I know this one will tell a different story. I wonder what my life will look like when I near the end of its pages. But that’s a fleeting thought. Because the beauty of this practice is how much it helps me engage in the present moment. I really do need it.

I hope that each of you has some type of practice in your life that helps you weather the storm. It’s the difficulty, the pain, or as I like to call it – the valley of suck – and the struggle through it that truly transforms us…that has transformed me.

Maybe a pen and paper and some honest writing can be a comfort to you in whatever struggle you’re going through.

Share this Post