by Kate Keith

Created on: July 16, 2008   Last Updated: December 14, 2009

Journaling or writing in a diary is what you make of it and is many things for different people: It can serve as a time line, gathering of ideas or a record of events - proof of life lived.

I have often said: I feel that I would be stark raving mad if I didn't write.

And the older I get I find that statement is just as true now as when I first recorded it in my journal.

I consider it my medication and my confessor and my small, indelible mark in my own little world a time capsule of moments. A few moments spend scribbling my thoughts gives me a relief and release that I have been unable to find in most other mediums. By putting pen to page I can focus confusion, distract fear, give vent to emotions and celebrate joy.

It's a safe place to pin anger or stress. The simple act of writing out feelings or experiences can give me the space to focus on how to proceed with a plan of action. Retreating to the written word until I am composed enough to speak and give voice to my thoughts serves me very well. This can be particularly effective if one has a low level of tolerance to irritation or has too many things on their plate at once. I find that writing on any level (scribbles, lists, questions, long rants or rambles) can help bring organization to the thought process.

Gaining insight - you've heard the adage "those who refuse to learn from history are condemned to repeat it'? By writing in and reading my journal on a fairly regular basis, I can calculate a running tally on my life choices and experiences. As each entry is my own, with my own biases and irregularities, my future actions (and subsequent entries) depend mainly upon myself; one might consider journaling a continual self-evaluation of sorts.

Journaling is also a secure place in which I am given license to be whoever I want to be: good and the bad.

There are no explanations or validation needed and punctuation and penmanship do not count against me. It sparks my creativity and forces me to draw out words to go with the emotions and experiences of life. I am proving something to myself each time I see that concreteness and firmness of my own reality in the pages of a journal.

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