Reading and reflecting in my old journals has been such a rewarding exercise that I’ve resolved to make this review an annual event. So glad I did, you see? If you’ve just picked up this thread, let me encourage you to loop back to my last two blog entries, or if you’ve followed along, you remember that Oprah and her journal were my catalysts. That Oprah can light a fire, can’t she? I bit her bait, and having learned so much from following her example, I’m ready to schedule this exercise like an anniversary.
In the past, I’d keep a journal pretty consistently for a while, and then, I’d get distracted, get out of the habit of creating regular entries, and allow a big chunk of time to slip away before I’d pick it up again. When I would re-start, I’d typically read the last entry before I got started, searching without realizing that I was looking for recurring themes and some glimmer of personal growth. As I recall this, I also recall being disappointed many times when I was starting a new entry on an old, unresolved theme of relationship drama and pain.
Those rhythms are captured in the journals that I rounded up—from 1983 to the present—and the voice of that frazzled woman who is trying to articulate what’s going on within her and around her is both familiar and removed. I am she, and I am no longer.
The searching questions from a curious and often bewildered brain are the most familiar aspects of my old journals. The woman I was there and then was often at a loss to understand how little control that she had over her circumstances or the people close to her but seemed to be pushing back against the lack of peace and calm. She poses many questions asking, “Why is it…?”’ or “Why does he…?” and ends many entries with a wistful, open-ended statement like “I suppose that time will tell….” I spent my 20s and 30s regularly reeling from a lot of activity and unreasonable, unchecked emotional demands, trying to wield my personal power and choosing how I’d react to people and situations. Time and real emotional growth has removed me from that woman and her struggle, and from that, I have reason to be grateful and hopeful.
My personal power is healthy and well, exercised regularly and often as I insist on living my life on my own terms. I’m not perfect, but I’m so much better. My dreams have naturally shifted and changed as 25 became 35 and 40 became 50, but the dreams that drive my love of personal freedom and self-expression and self-determination are just as vivid and strong as they’ve ever been. Maybe stronger. I still dream of charting my own course without knowingly hurting anyone else, without making excuses or compromising who I am and what I truly want. I dream of achieving serenity, caring sweetly and respectfully for myself and others, too. I dream of getting better at relaxing and letting go.
Through this reflection, I’ll treat the woman I was with more reverence and warmth, and I’ll challenge the woman I’ll become to embrace the future happily and passionately. I have made incredibly impressive strides toward becoming My Best Self, I can tell you, and say to myself, with confidence: I am on my way!
So, thank you, Oprah. I’m so glad I did.
Doctor Mell
