Why you should never throw away an old journal
Manifesting isn't what they sell you on social media.
My whole life I’ve been writing things down. Lists, ideas, questions, confusions, dreamy fantasies.
When I was a kid, I’d make lists and lists of the horses and horse-things I wanted. Eventually, I ended up getting them all, serendipitously.
So I kept on writing down my wants, my casual orders in life. And the process has repeated itself.
It’s so easy to forget where you’ve been. The thoughts you’ve had, especially with the pace of life we move in.
In July of last year I had a vision of a dark motherly figure coming down and laying on top of me. Saying, “you need to be alone for a while. You need to do this on your own.”
Shortly after I lost almost all of the people closest to me — my boyfriend, my best friend, all of my family, and then my dog of 13 years died. I screamed and howled and cried and beat my chest like a wild woman. I sat in my home wondering why. Wondering what’s the point of anything, except that I’d promised my dog I’d keep going through it all.
That all happened in just a few short months.
And I spent the fall and winter reflecting on my life. Sitting with myself mulling over the questions, doubts, and confusions as they came up. Nobody who knew me knew me to reach out to, text or call. “I guess I just have to figure out how I feel about it by myself.”
I made it through. There were times I didn’t think I would, or even wanted to. But I did, and came out like a sparkling light on the other side. Excited about the future, excited about what I still don’t know in life.
This afternoon I sat down to journal, we’re coming up close on the final transition into the year of the Fire Horse and I’m taking it seriously. I’ve recently filled up some cheap Steno pads and went digging in storage to see if I already have empty journals to use. Sure enough!
This is where I say, don’t ever throw away your old journals. I’ve lost many over the years, so the ones I found are only from the last few years. But I cracked one open and found this bit I’d written for myself sometime between 2020 and 2022:
You need to be alone with yourself. Truly alone.
In spaces so quiet and still that those voices in your soul can rise up in big baritone booms and possess ever cell.
So the crazy can be seen. By you.
So you can fully witness the destruction that ignoring and distracting and rationalizing it away has had on your psyche.
But don’t run from it.
Don’t resist. You’ll want to. Don’t.
You gotta run full speed into it.
Beat your chest.
Cry those tears.
Wail like a banshee.
Do all the things as a wild animal would.
Until exhausted. Collapse.
And repeat when it rises again.
There are no coincidences in life. It’s just that we too easily forget and lose track of the threads over time.
Whatever you do, don’t throw away your old journals. You might miss out on a spell you once cast.
