I've recently been re-reading my early journals; I've been keeping one since 1976. It has become fascinating reading because I've forgotten so many things, especially details about my children when they were small (the kind of things you think you'll never forget, but do). I've also been surprised by how your mind "remembers" an event totally differently than the way it really happened! I've been happily immersed in them - and even gotten some ideas for writing projects.
It shouldn't be surprising, I suppose, that your mind ebbs and flows, and changes the mental landscape over the years. But this exercise has made me even more determined to keep writing in my daily journal. Even if only my near and dear read my entries after I'm gone, it is a permanent personal and family history that, I have realized, is invaluable.
So, when each day has waned, and the current journal sits at my desk awaiting my pen - and I think I'm too tired, or the day's events are really nothing worth recording - I hope I recall this life lesson and make myself write for a few minutes. After all, I have the evidence that it's worth it.
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