My whole life I’ve been a writer but for a long time I didn’t realize it. I’ve always kept tons of notebooks filled with lists and ideas and drawings and diary entries. The books were never really organized; and the thoughts inside them weren’t always coherent. Somehow that didn’t seem to matter.

Words have always felt very powerful to me. That part of the lecture I didn’t take notes on? Was often forgotten. That list of things to do that I never got around to making? Some of those things never got done. I’ve vented frustrations, planned elaborate reconciliations, and told people what I really thought all within the safety of a journal.

As I’ve grown into an adult what I’ve needed to write down has grown as well. I’m obviously not afraid to share my life with the World Wide Web, but I’m surprised that that visceral need to keep track of my life with written words has stayed with me. I still find putting my frustrations into words to be an immensely freeing process. Somehow when my feelings are on the page unable to let go of them I no longer have to carry them with me. In stark contrast, when I write about the good things, the milestones, the joys, they feel permanent. And I often go back and experience them again and again.

I also find that I’m not one to gush with emotion that the exercise of sitting down, thinking about how I feel and then say, telling my husband how awesome he is, is as beneficial to him as it is to me.

How about you? Do you make lists? Keep a journal? Fellow bloggers? (Comment with a link to your blog!)

Do you have a mantra or phrase you use when you need comfort or inspiration?

Stay dry, east coast readers!

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