As much as I love to wander and wonder, I used to lock myself in my own world — wordsmith’s abode — my journals.
I have ceased from blogging in a few months. If I were writing, I would just keep them privately. Chronicling my epiphanies empowers my memory and invigorates my soul. I might have been known as an extrovert and extremely friendly, but an introvert piece of me rises with its shy wings.
I tend to keep my thoughts all by myself lately, and there’s nothing wrong with that. I’m still a private person after all, albeit my social media accounts deny that fact most often.
“Keep your wants, your joys, your sorrows, your cares, and your fears before God. You cannot burden Him; you cannot weary Him. He who numbers the hairs of your head is not indifferent to the wants of His children. ‘The Lord is very pitiful, and of tender mercy’ (James 5:11). His heart of love is touched by our sorrows and even by our utterances of them.
Take to Him everything that perplexes the mind. Nothing is too great for Him to bear, for He holds up worlds, He rules over all the affairs of the universe. Nothing that in any way concerns our peace is too small for Him to notice. There is no chapter in our experience too dark for Him to read; there is no perplexity too difficult for Him to unravel.
No calamity can befall the least of His children, no anxiety harass the soul, no joy cheer, no sincere prayer escape the lips, of which our heavenly Father is unobservant, or in which He takes no immediate interest. ‘He healeth the broken in heart, and bindeth up their wounds’ (Psalm 147:3). The relations between God and each soul are as distinct and full as though there were not another soul upon the earth to share His watchcare, not another soul for whom He gave His beloved Son.” Ellen White, Steps to Christ
Of Musings and Memories
For me, journals are sacred. The golden threads of your memories are sewn well when you jot down your thoughts. You choke your pen until it gives life to even unwanted feelings, albeit you only want the cherished ones — happy memories, to linger.
Sometimes, I find it funny to re-read my old journals. I’m often trapped between being tickled by pure gaiety and smothered by irksomeness. There were entries that I wished I didn’t write coz they bring me down some dark memory lanes. But the moment I meet my old self there, I realize I’ve grown a lot — emotionally & spiritually.
There’s no constant thing in this world except change. I changed in the past months, my blog almost abandoned. I write lesser and lesser than the least I expected myself. There were entries I just need to upload, only to be shackled by procrastina and her ally — blogger’s burnout.
I think it’s about time to rekindle my romance with words, both written and typewritten. Hoping to make more potpourri of poetry to savor my soul.
Jubilant Journey through Journals
Soliloquy no more, I might end up with my pursuit to be a recluse. Solitary wandering I could opt, but I’d rather walk with my heaven-sent solemate someday.
Someday, my journals would keep living when I succumbed to whatever my deepest slumber would cause. I actually thought of kissing my old journals adieu, but the scribbled quotes and poetry excerpts keep me holding on.
Would I tear the most wanted pages for keeps and burn or bury their remnants? But how could I do that to my sacred and treasured possessions? My adopted minimalist lifestyle encourages me to do so. Would I yield?
Let me just have another soliloquy. This entry isn’t supposed to be here anyway.
The pages afforded glimpses into my soul where I’d hidden it, behind masks of paper and ink.” ― Rachel L. Schade
Read an old poem I’ve written while journaling: In the Potter’s Hands
My current favorite song that I used to listen to while jotting down my thoughts: HELD