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I keep every one of my old diaries and journals in a large box, and I am able to say with confidence that if there was a fire in my house, that box would be the first material possession I would grab.
Those diaries and journals are truly "me"...with my insecurities, hopes and doubts, heartbreaks and celebrations, and even the mundane musings of the day.
One of my guilty pleasures is pulling down this box from the top shelf of my closet, and reading about life from my perspective one year ago--or ten, twenty, or thirty years ago. I am able to see the way I've changed/matured through the years in some ways, but in other ways I see how I am the same. I'm reminded of the reality of my life at that point in time, rather than allowing my memory to romanticize the past.
During the first two years of my marriage I didn't keep a journal, because it seemed strange to have a book of my privately written thoughts on life separate from my husband. Finally by our third year of marriage, I returned to my writings, and have done so in the twelve years since then. Those two years that I don't have any days recorded seem like something is missing. All I have to rely on is my memory. I can't imagine allowing another year of life to pass me by without recording its history.
As 2012 nears, consider starting a journal for this new year. There are no rules or guidelines about what to write--just promise yourself to be totally transparent. I promise that years from now, you'll relish re-reading it.
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