I write in journals regularly – the old fashioned way, with pen and paper. It is on those pages where I soul search, make discoveries, ask questions and sometimes get answers. Frankly, there are fewer answers than I’d like.
Some themes continue to resurface in my life, and – as of yet – I’ve been unable to sufficiently answer them. There’s a theory we all have lessons to learn in a lifetime and until we do, they keep repeating. That definitely seems to be the case for me.
I don’t even know how many journal pages I’ve filled over the years. Many, many thousands, I’m sure. I’ve been journaling almost since I could write. It seems like in all that time I would have figured out more than I have.
This weekend I was in the studio and felt an overwhelming urge to write about this time in my life. This is always a particularly difficult time of year, for reasons I’ve written about recently, and I know I’m not exactly “normal” because of it. So, I try to sort things out on the page. That is where I always go to seek answers.
Maybe there’s another avenue, and maybe I should find it.
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