Today’s assignment was to start a journal, which I have been opposed to for many years. Especially in InterVarsity Christian Fellowship events, people would bust out journals and take meticulous notes on what the speaker says or all the spiritual things that they are dealing with. Quite often, the speaker would finish his let’s-pray-before-I-talk-prayer, and everyone around me would reach down for his/her journal in unison (like they’ve rehearsed this), while I awkwardly sit there not reaching down for anything.
I’ve been opposed to journaling because I don’t like writing down thoughts that are not maturely developed yet. One day I’ll think A, but the next day I’ll think B, and about a year later A and B will combine into form a more concrete idea C. Thus I’d rather wait until I can word my philosophy and theology into a more presentable product.
Besides, knowing how busy(lazy) I am, I know I’ll never reread my journal. Everything worth thinking about should be on my mind anyways. I keep enough things that I don’t get around to reading (piles of TIME magazines, books I bought, etc.). And as a minimalist I like to throw away things that just sit there collecting dust, because I know my life will go on perfectly fine whether or not I have read last week’s issue of TIME (no matter how interesting the cover looks). We live in a world where there is increasingly more information than I can ever handle, so is it worth recording my every little thought in case I want to read about what I used to think?
Alas, but the Art of Manliness website convinces me otherwise. The most mundane things that I assume nobody will want to remember will someday become interesting stories of the past. Moreover, I figure I can avoid excessively vomiting words concerning my incoherently fetal ideas, and simply use my journal to recount my daily events.
Perhaps I have found a way to keep a journal that doesn’t drive me nuts.
At Target, I was torn between a $10 journal and a $1.50 notebook. Initially I leaned towards the cheap notebook, but then I thought my memories should be kept in something that wouldn’t yellow-up and rip apart spontaneously. So I bought the former, figuring that a nice journal would give more incentive to write in in.
So today I took out a fountain pen that my G-pa gave me, and wrote my first journal entry.