Back in my younger days, I loved to receive notebooks and pencils. I enjoyed English class and the required summer reading because the stories allowed me to escape and I loved the requirement to journal. The journal was proof to the teacher that you actually had read the books and absorbed the material. I have notebooks, diaries, and journals that go back to 1980. I journaled about as many parts of my life as my subconscious would allow. When I couldn't articulate the emotion, especially if the experience was a bad one, on reflection I recorded only what happened and processed the emotions when it was "time". My words reflected my joys, losses, hopes, frustrations, longings, goals and my embarrassments. It was my safe place. Later, it became proof of my mediation, my conversations with the Spirit of God, lessons, rants, prayers, and enlightenment. My journals are proof of my growth or blindspots. It reminds me when I forget and slaps my face to not fall back or give up. Sometimes my journal entries are long, sometimes short: one sentence or one big, bold word. No matter or whatever, it's truly me on paper. I can read back over entries and see how I lied to myself then "watch" how the truth unfolded to knock some sense in me.
Today, journaling can be done using voice memo on cell phones, videos, or with images/photos. Out of my handwritten journaling will come my stories about Mo and Ro; it has documented my path to truth and chronicles my freedom to be authentically me.
I hope you enjoy the adventures we share.