by Jenny Beatrice
I love journals. Like a backpack of fresh school supplies with that new car smell, an empty journal is full of possibilities. Hard covered or spiral bound, patterned or plain, lined or unlined, I see a new journal as the expression of who I want to be—a prolific writer with an unsurpassed self-awareness and really, really nice handwriting.
I have a lot of empty journals.
A few pages in, my romantic journaling fantasies are quickly erased. I start off safe, writing an esoteric string of maxims that are better suited for fancy fonts on pictures of sunsets to share on the Internet. Then I rip out the pages I’ve tarnished with my hollow words, ready to “do it right this time.”
Stunted by the pressure of the blank page, it’s not long before I go back to my comfort zone and convert the journal into another book of to-do lists. Check. Done. Check. The satisfaction feels good for a moment, but it’s only a distraction that keeps me hovering above my real issues like a vulture over a carcass.
I came to realize that perhaps all the pretty journal covers were merely a cover for the fact that I am uncomfortable with the personal relationship that true journaling requires. Ready for the real work, a search led me to Mari’s 27-Day Journaling Challenge.
“Peace. Health. Happiness,” read the book cover. Hmm, this program offered some serious possibilities! And it seemed I didn’t have to be prolific or perfect to join in. The catch—you had to commit to doing the real work of journaling for 27 days. “This is called a workbook for a reason, because you have to participate and do the work,” said Mari.
And without stopping first to find a fancy book with matching pen, I took her up on the challenge.
Her daily prompts go straight to the heart. A challenging but gentle guide, Mari calls attention to our daily struggles while reaching parts of ourselves long hidden or forgotten--old patterns repeating, echoes of painful voices, lost connections between our minds and bodies. The progression of the prompts helped me to see the relation of one to the next, revealing a web with a few key issues at the core.
An unexpected treasure was the support of the online community. The posts and conversations by members of the Facebook group reminded me that although I must do the work of journaling alone, I was not in it alone.
At the end of the 27-day challenge, Mari posed this question for the Facebookers to ponder: “Where am I now and how has journaling got me there?” My answer: Right now I’ve got growing pains. I've become aware of my patterns and when I repeat them it feels like I'm wearing clothes I've grown out of, still mine but not quite right.
I must confess that half way through the challenge I bought a new journal. A very unromantic Black and Red, too big and serious to be ignored. This is the book of a committed journaler, one who is still finding herself and whose early-morning cat-scratch handwriting is a little hard to read. And its pages are filling up with possibilities every day.
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Jenny Beatrice is a practicing journaler from St. Louis, Mo. Working in communications by day and writing by night, Jenny writes about the humor in everyday life on her blog correctionsandclarfications.com. This spring, her work will be featured in the anthology series, “Not Your Mother’s Books” from Publishing Syndicate. And she will be a returning participant to the 27 Day Journaling Challenge in April.
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