Keeping a Journal

I don’t know if this is true, and have no real basis for the statement other than general feeling, but I don’t think that people keep a journal the way they used to.  If I am right, I find it a shame.

However, on the other hand, I personally do not journal, and there is a very good reason why.

As I mentioned in a post a week or so ago, I love words, and I love writing. Not just novels and stories, but the very act of putting words down on paper soothes me. Be it ink or typeface I don’t care.

I have purposefully never entered the world of journal keeping because if I did, I fear I would completely lose my grip on the world around me (my children excluded of course).

If I ever dared to start opening my mind and putting my thoughts down onto paper, I fear what may happen. I love the idea of it, but greatly fear what would become of me.

I have been spending a lot of time pondering things recently, spiritual things. Not in terms of God and Jesus, which is just cannot find any faith in, but rather the more natural way of it all. Spirits, Angels, Demons, Mother Nature, Zen, Meditation, the list goes on. I think that sooner or later I will go on a find myself mission, to see if I can answer the question of who I am. Keeping or rather starting a journal may well be part of that process, but when I start, I will be sure to advise those around me that I would need to be watched. I could easily get lost within my own words, within my own mind.

The more I think about it, and the more reasons I think of not to start a journal, the more I think I should do it. Maybe I need to.

My mind is known to run away, at great speed, taking not just one thought or idea, but a great many. I get serious headaches, even migraines at times, because my head is just too full or noise, of questions, theories, answers, but not to the questions I am thinking at the time, stories, plots, characters etc… I’m sure you get the picture.

I have always been a private person, I keep my real thoughts to myself. I am loud and brash in public, but what I say is nothing more than a generic string of sentences and opinions, that in essence reflect my view in terms of on what side I stand, but never delve into anything truly personal.

Maybe that is part of the problem. I fear that by putting myself out there, even in a private journal, I am opening up too much of myself. Perhaps I fear being judged, maybe I am just afraid of myself.

Perhaps journals would give me an outlet for it all, dare I say a way to find some sort of inner peace that I so crave.

Or perhaps I am just nuts. that is a distinct possibility.  OK, this post has gone off my planned topic again, and if I let it, it would run on and on, and I don’t think I… or you, are ready for that. So I will cut it off here, and return to my pondering.