The Usefulness of Journals

Recently, the value of keeping a journal has been on my mind, and Gator, my eleven year old, pointed out to me that he didn't have one. 

I know...Major Momma Slackitude!  (If that were only the worst of it...)

Bunch has a robust collection of pretty blank notebooks and journals, and loves writing in them.  It's kind of an odd thing to collect, but she loves them and has been journaling for years.  (She also collects pencils. They pair nicely with the journals.)

While I began keeping a journal as a 5th grader, the ever-overachieving Doc started keeping a journal when he was in 3rd grade.  He was a special child.  In fact, it was this very journal that made me fall in love with him.  I am absolutely serious about this, even though you might think it was his handsome looks, his winsome personality or keen intellect. Nope. It was his journal that hooked me.

Doc and I were already close friends.  He'd been knocked for a loop by my certain charms from the very start, but I had kindly told him "I just want to be friends." He surprised me by saying that was fine, and quickly proceeded to become my favorite person. But I hadn't yet been caught up by his tractor beam.  It's possible I might have had trust issues. 

So one night Doc announced that he wanted me to read his journal. The journal he'd vowed early on that no one would ever read so he could be completely honest in it.  About everything (including me. As it turned out).

It took some arm twisting, but I finally agreed to it.

By the time I turned the last page, I was done for.  My heart was captured and confirmed his.  In those pages it was as though I came to know the soul of this young man, and in knowing him I couldn't resist just loving him.  (I believe that's where that expression actually originated.)

He was just eighteen years old, and that journal had started when he was nine.  Half his life was represented.  And unlike my journal, which I was suddenly very self-conscious of, his was focused on things actually worth remembering. 

To clarify: I'd spent years faithfully writing about my days...what I ate (fascinating!), what time it was when I went to bed, how much sleep I got or didn't get, what I wore that day, who gave me rides to things, how much homework I had, and wondering why if I was defective.  Every now and then I tried to include something with the intent that if someone ever DID read select entries, you know, AFTER I WAS DEAD, they'd maybe think I was kind of awesome.  So there I was, writing to my invisible audience. 

It was painful to realize what a waste of time and what a missed opportunity my journal was.  Doc hadn't written as often as me, but when he did write, it was to record significant experiences, things he was thinking about as he grew from a boy into a man.  He wrote down spiritual experiences, answers to prayers, things that were important to him, his hopes, plans and dreams.  He didn't omit things that might show his frailties and shortcomings...it was the whole picture.  And I was dumbfounded by his honesty and trust (in letting me read it). 

I wished someone had taught me the why, what and how of keeping a journal. I had no idea how useful and worthwhile keeping one could be.  Mine is truly so awful that I've only glanced through it a couple times in the past 30 years. 

But this past weekend I finally bought Gator a journal, and in an overcompensating attempt, I even had his name inscribed on it. (I think Bunch was jealous.) 

After he'd written his first entry, he asked if he could read my journal from when I was a kid.  In case I needed to edit out any parts Because my penmanship was positively terrible, I decided I'd read it to him and use my fifth-grade self as a kind of what not to do when it comes to journaling. 

It was enlightening to say the least...especially reading it out loud to my kid. I really was completely all-or-nothing as a child.
 

Turns out that tomorrow, March 17th, is the 31st anniversary of my first journal entry...and since this post is already too long, I will continue this tale, INCLUDING SHARING the very first two journal entries OF MY LIFE, complete with errors.  Which faithful readers will note means blog posts for 3 days in a row.  It's like a party. Without food!

 

HELPFUL TIP FOR THE DAY:

Don't forget to wear green to bed tonight...kids these days start the pinching early!