image by Dolly Garland
Last night I finished my current journal. Journal #32 to be precise. Last few pages are filled in tiny writing because I was travelling and didn’t want to run out of space.
Usually, I’m excited to finish a journal and start a new one. Ending a journal is almost a ritual. I like to reflect on what’s happened in that period, and part with that journal on the basis that our mutual journey is now finished. I like clean endings. I like goodbyes, rather than uncertainties.
This current journal didn’t give me a chance to say goodbye. The last few pages are filled with writings from my trip, to the place where I returned after 11 years. It left me in reflection, emotional, and thought overload. My journal pages ran out, but the overload has not finished yet.
There is still so much to say, so much to think about, and so when I start a new journal, it will be a continuation rather than a beginning. I am avoiding my new journal because I did not get a clean ending and a clean beginning, even though I know they are merely illusions.
Life is not a tidy book, with chapters that each have beginning, middle, and an end. Life is a chaotic story in a free-written form. Sometimes, if you look for them, you can see the beginnings, and middles. You never see the end, because of course then you are dead.
I’m giving myself a few hours to adjust, to accept this continuation, and start my journal #33 sometime today. You feel obligated to start with a bang, otherwise it seems like a waste. Life is full of bangs, some bangs just make less noise than others. I’ll remember that as I start scribbling, because I might procrastinate now and again, but when you are a scribbler right down to your soul, there is nothing else to do but keep scribbling.
ACTION YOU CAN TAKE TODAY:
Journal about your ideas for beginnings and endings of a new journal.