I recently re-read some old entries in my lilac coloured journal that I filled in 2020, and it made me realize something I never considered about journaling.
Journals are like a time travel machine.
Made of paper, ink, curves and lines of alphabets, journals craft the contents that lived in your heart at a specific moment of time.
And revisiting those entries feel like chapters that used to be blank have now been filled out. Questions have been answered, certain pains still feel tender, and others have been healed.
Perhaps there is purpose to revisit previous entries, and see how life turned out after all.
A few lines of scribbled poetry, a pressed flower, doodles of a crescent moon, or a Polaroid appear as pages that haven’t been touched in years are slowly returned in our hands.
“Oh yeah. I remember that”.
“Oh wow. I’ve grown from that”.
You might have forgotten about that slow dance in the kitchen on a rainy evening during lockdown, or how a friend’s supportive words lightened the heaviness in your mind.
You might have forgotten that a sunrise in 2022 made you cry, or that your Mom’s pasta felt like a soothing cradle during a stormy era of your life.
Specific details of our lives like these naturally fade away from our memory as we live our day-to-day routine, but once our eyes make contact with those descriptors, it feels like we’re right there again.
Transported back to Mom’s kitchen, the edge of a dock, or in the swaying arms of your love.
Reconnected with the people and moments that make your life feel like sunshine.
As fleeting as it was in that moment, you made it yours to revisit it again.
Delicately wrapped in velvet and silk ribbon, these treasured moments are stored away like prized gold.
When needed, they can be unwrapped and held again, between hands and hearts alike.
May this entry inspire you to time travel to your own favourite moments, or to see how much you have grown.
xo 🤍
My Turquoise Bag 
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