Journaling again
I recently purchased a soft cover Leuchtturn1917 journal in a lovely blue color. It has numbered pages that are dotted instead of lined (lined and unlined are available but I chose the dotted for the fun of it), lovely thick paper and some nice extras like two ribbon bookmarks, an index page and an elastic band to hold the cover in place when I’m not using it. **
For years I’ve written in slim black or grey journals so my new journal with its blue cover and extra features feels almost too extravagant. It’s kinda like I’ve been trying to fly under the writing radar by writing in nondescript journals all these years and now that I picking out a colored journal I feel like I’m drawing attention to the fact that I’m writing. This all probably sounds weird but maybe there’s something to it. Maybe it’s time to be colorful with my writing and buying a colored journal with lots of nice features is a way to give me a little kick start.
You see, I haven’t been writing much in well over a year. I haven’t felt like I have much to say even in the privacy of my own journal. Journaling has felt purposeless – like I write the same stuff day after day. Plus, I know I’ve censored my own words because I’ve been afraid someone will find my journals and read them and conclude I am absolutely bonkers or that my writing is terrible or boring or, most likely, all of the above.
My journaling hasn’t always felt this way. I used to write and not think about what I put on the page much. I wrote with the purpose of unlocking creativity and clearing my mind of gobbledygook. Sometimes I simply wrote about the day to day happenings. Sometimes I wrote using prompts to get the words a going. But I’ve kinda shut down. I’ve kinda given up.
I think it’s mostly been since my Dad got sick and died that I haven’t felt like writing. It hurt too much to write about Dad and thing things my family was going through the past couple of years. But even before then I’ve been wondering why I bother to write. What’s the purpose? Do I still want to write stories or is it time to do something else with my life? Should I be writing something more important? Something about politics? About injustice? I don’t know.
I do know this – for some reason I’ve been writing again. Perhaps I’m writing, in part, because I have a new blue journal and perhaps the new journal has nothing to do with it. Perhaps I’m writing because some of the pain from the last couple of years has subsided or I’m feeling like now is the time to write about the pain. Perhaps I’ve missed writing and I’m finding my way back. I guess the why doesn’t really matter.
What matters is that I am writing and am finding enjoyment in pulling out one of my fountain pens, in sitting down at my desk or out on my deck in the sunshine, in opening my journal to a blank page and in writing down words. That’s all that matters for now.
** full disclosure we sell Leuchtturn1917 journals at Content Bookstore where I work but no one asked me to write about them, review them, or anything like that. No compensation was offered etc. etc. I’m not sure if I’m supposed to say all this but there it is.