Guest Blog by Heidi Mattern

I’m walking with a friend, and we’re discussing our writing projects. Suddenly I blurt out, “I just realized I’ve been keeping a journal for 45 years!”

“Wow!” says my friend. “How has that affected your life?”

“I know myself so much better. I can listen within and love myself more easily. It’s like having a best friend always at my side.”

Later, I reflected on the benefits of writing in my journal. First, I enjoy the act itself. Each morning I curl up in my window seat, sip my coffee, and let my pen flow across the page. There’s no digital device between me and my thoughts. It’s like sketching or painting. It’s a sensual, creative pleasure. Writing clears the clutter from my mind. It’s as necessary for me as brushing my teeth.

Journal writing, like meditating, asks me to stop what I’m doing and sink into silence. It’s an invitation to ask myself: “How am I doing? What do I really want right now?” Outer voices – of family, friends, media – can drown out the inner whisper of my soul. I can get seduced by the voice of “should” – I “should” join this committee, read this article, help this neighbor. When I get quiet, and dialog with myself, I can re-set my priorities.

My journal is a place to empty my mind of worry. I can complain about something a relative said. I can write about a fear, or something I feel guilty about. As I write out my problems, they look smaller, more manageable.

I have a friend who has practiced journal writing for years. When her children were young, she allowed herself to complain about them on paper. Later she burned these pages. “So much better that I poured out my frustrations in my journal, instead of dumping them on my kids,” she tells me.

Another way I support myself in my journal is to celebrate my “wins”. If my energy is low, I can even pat myself on the back for getting the laundry done. I will sometimes address myself in my journal. “Way to go, Heidi! You taught your Mom how to use her Kindle!” It may seem hokey. But the alternative is to belittle myself. I choose instead to be a cheerleader.

I also love to capture moments of beauty. Anais Nin, well-known diary keeper, said, “We write to taste life twice…”

Recently I wrote: “On the beach yesterday I stopped to watch three otters clustered on a rock. They were grooming each other, tussling and nuzzling. They were an otter version of a puppy pile.” Even if I never read these journal entries again, the act of writing helps me slow down and savor my life. Writing helps me “taste life twice” instead of rushing through it.

If I’m feeling unsettled, I use my journal for spiritual guidance. I love to address the Divine as “Beloved.” I will write: “Beloved, I’m dreading this trip. What should I do?” I pause and listen. I hear gentle wisdom, and I write it down. We all have this wisdom inside, if we take the time to give it our attention.

My time with myself each morning, listening within and writing in my journal, is a gift I give myself. I would not be without it. And that gift ripples outward. I am more present with my husband when I’ve taken the time to be present with myself. I can listen to a friend and cheer her on, since I’ve done this for myself. The act of journaling is a joy-filled spiritual practice. It is a way of loving myself, realigning myself, and cherishing this world I inhabit.