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I’ll admit that I’m easily distracted and that there are days that go by without me writing in my journal… and it always makes me feel guilty when I see it sitting there untouched and unloved. As if there are stories inside me that are bursting to break out and if I would just pick up that pen and open to a blank page that I could set them free.
But some days there really isn’t a story to tell and it feels too self indulgent to write about my feelings, or what I cooked for breakfast, or about that dream last night… But therein lies the good stuff, doesn’t it? Those little snippets of daily life that remind you that you are REAL. While every day can and should be appreciated and experienced to it’s fullest, some days are going to simply have less action than others – and it’s OK to write about that. It’s far from self-indulgent – it’s actually quite fascinating. Imagine finding the daily journal from a distant relative from over a hundred years ago. Wouldn’t it be interesting to read about what they did to pass the time? What they cooked? What they learned in school? How their cat was always trying to be cute and cuddly and distract you from dipping the quill in the ink pot?
Regardless of what you wish to accomplish by logging your daily thoughts or childhood memories, what is keeping you from doing it? What keeps you from writing?