Recording Life

I'm amazed at how quickly one twenty-four hour period of time passes. One day rolls into the next, and before I know it, I can't remember what happened earlier in the week, or in the previous week. I seem to remember the big events. Those dates somehow etch themselves into my mind and I'm glad they do, but the small things have a way of fading into oblivion.

Things like a subtle change in my way of thinking, or great insight from a writer, or a little burst of confidence in an area of life where I've never been confident before--these are the things I want to remember, but often don't. My intentions to capture such events haven't gone as planned. I was stunned today when I opened my moleskine journal and saw that I've haven't recorded a single word in it since January 8th. A lot has happened since then.

I'm not sure why I'm not content unless I record my life. Maybe its vanity. But it seems deeper than that. I think it's a way of saying I lived, and loved, and struggled, and thought. For too many years, I went through life without allowing myself to feel. Now I'm making up for lost time. Well, that's not really true. A person can't make up for lost time. But he can change the present. So, last night I cracked open my moleskine journal and wrote. Today, I plan to do the same thing.