From my first treasured faux-leather "Daily Diary" with its clasp and key that held my adolescent secrets (securely, I hoped!), to the present assortment of three or four notebooks "in use", journaling has held a central and beloved place in my life. It's a many-decades love affair that's covered all the bases from dashed-off entries of life's dailiness, a place to practice my writer's craft, journals holding my dream-notes, ponderings on life's enigmas and challenges, and perhaps most powerfully, a valued companion of my spiritual odyssey.
I was blessed to grow up in a home with a mother who made time nearly every day to write in her own diary or notebooks, a many-volumed treasure now lovingly preserved in two large cartons. Her example to me of how women were entitled to private reflective time is a priceless legacy.