For forever and a day now, I’ve been thinking about journals. I’ve kept several of different sorts; travel journals, book journals with Marianna, brain dump journals (those are the most fun!!!) But, like many things over the past year, journaling of any sort got set aside.
I am truly making an effort to make 2011 a more meaningful, more deliberate year. One in which I choose to partake in things that bring me joy.
Not things that bring my daughter happiness or that bring a smile to my husband. Over time it has truly become apparent that if one of our tiny family is unhappy, that unhappiness reaches out and sinks it’s fingers into the other two. We each need to be able to find what makes us as individuals light up, and then that joy will spread to all.
So while a joint journal project with my daughter has been a terrific choice in the past I can’t wait and wait for the perfect opportunity to appear again. What I can do is get up off the couch, step away from the computer and all the lovely ideas it contains and make some of those bits of joyful loveliness happen right here in my own home rather than reading the twelfth version of the same idea in someone else’s world.
So today I stopped at Ben Franklin’s where a pretty linen covered watercolor journal was on sale, came home to rummage around under Marianna’s bed to find brand new, never been used watercolor paints, dug deep into a closet to pull out three new paint brushes, and sat down at my desk in my cherry red chair to crack open that journal.
First pages – blank pages – are so scary, aren’t they?
So I decided to address that.
I knew the answer.
I really do know the answer, I just need to remember that I do.
So I dipped my paintbrush again and filled the page so I do not forget.
I will let joy blossom in me.