In a world that quotes without context or reflection, journaling your thoughts can be a way to keep chaos at bay.
Growing up with a brother whose heart needed a pacemaker to beat, the idea that he could die at any second made me aware, from a very early age, of how fragile we human beings are. And I often wonder why, in the era of artificial intelligence, no one talks about the intelligence of the heart.
This awareness, I believe, shaped my emotional sensitivity. While trying to live a “normal” life, I constantly observed any signs that might alert us that something was wrong: the color of his skin, the speed of his movements, his diction, the language of his body. The downside of such sensitivity is that, in the wrong environment, you also absorb toxic inputs—until you learn how to block them.
That is how I started journaling, for myself. I needed to write, on a piece of paper, all my fears and to collect observations about my older brother. The more I observed and wrote down what I saw, the more I understood that I could never control the outcomes of life—but I could control how they affected me, and how I could become a better sister. Now that I have grown up, I also understand that inputs are just as important.
Communication is not only verbal. Silence can also carry a deep meaning.
Journaling requires loneliness, and it takes courage to withdraw, to stop consuming, and to try to find meaning for oneself. It is like walking in the desert, where your eyes meet only the eternity of sand.
Journaling can also help you distance yourself from your own thoughts and realize they are only thoughts. It is up to each of us to decide whether to act upon them or not. And if you make a mistake, it is never too late to recognize how little you may have considered how your actions would affect another person.
Journaling also allows you to remember. If you have suffered from burnout, chronic depression, or a nervous breakdown, writing down the small things that bring you joy may help carry you through dark times.