The private conversation you have with yourself when it’s quiet, or you’re sitting in a meeting wondering if you should speak out, or when fear strikes in the dark hours of the night is the opportunity to be truly honest with yourself.
For several years I have kept a journal. It is where I converse best with myself. As this is a topic most people don’t speak about I can’t know how common it is to be constantly in conversation. Judging decisions, weighing up actions, reflecting to note improvements for the future or even observing why I might not have just said something I thought to say (incidentally this was the topic of tonight’s writings).
Over time I’ve come to value the journal as the ultimate truth teller. Thinking without pen in hand can run too fast. Important thoughts can overshoot contemplation or pushed aside by the next thought rushing forward. With my Waterman fountain pen poised over paper this changes. Thought slows. Ideas expand. And if I chose to be honest and really listen I find the contradictions in my actions are screaming at me.
These are the moments like when I realised my reason for not taking action now was not fear of the present but fear of not fully understanding what the future would become if I took the action; or more precisely fear of who I would become. These are realisations that appear first like a flash out of the corner of my eye and are understood only if I determine to turn my head and investigate. Most often it is a feeling of discordance that comes when I know in my heart that what I’ve just put to paper is not the real truth of the matter.
If you were to read my journal the entries may confuse and leave you wondering, “How did he get anything out of that?” It doesn’t matter in the end what is written. The journey of the conversation and the insight found along the way provides wisdom. Once learnt it won’t be forgotten. My journalling has improved who I am. May it do the same for you.