For as long as I can remember, I have always written in journals. Of course, there were stretches of time that I didn’t write at all, but I would somehow always find my way back.
After reading a few of my old journal entries, I realized recently that I didn’t write to remember, rather I wrote to forget. Because it’s easier to forget something “journal-worthy” if you knew you had access to it in the future.
Equipped with this knowledge, wouldn’t you live every moment to its fullest? Without expectations, rather just because? With intention and purpose? Completely and utterly, present?
Then have the option to relive it through your words later. With words that you chose to use at the time because they were attached to distinct experiences, and moments; tied to enhanced emotions and feelings. Energy and manifested adventures.
Now imagine, a bookshelf full of your memories.
So here’s to sharing some of my raw journal entries. Who knows where this blog is going to go, but journaling is certainly where it began.