KEEPING A JOURNAL helps organize your thoughts, your moods, and your memories. Don’t worry about giving yourself parameters. Write to do lists, what happened that day, or what song is stuck in your head. Carry it around with you everywhere or set aside some time to jot down a few words each day. Here are some pages from Emma’s journal to help give you ideas for yours.
what inspires me
why can’t I be friendly & warm? why am I shy and standoffish? Why do I hate ordering food from strangers and talking to customer service? Why can’t I be that person who everyone is friends with? why would I rather sit alone than make small talk? why do I go everywhere alone? why don’t I care?
PLACES I FEEL AT HOME: the beach, under a wave, with my mom, with my brother, with sara, running, with india, a good book, by any body of water, New York
PLACES I DON’T FEEL AT HOME: my dorm, my house, Las Vegas, Seattle, at a party, at other people’s houses, offices, the suburbs, the desert, dining halls, with a boy, groups larger than 5, in a super expensive car, in a fancy house, in sweatpants
they think I’m too young to love him, they think I’m too dumb to see, they think I can’t understand the freedom land of the seventies, I think we are like fire and water
Random doodles, keep your third eye open
If I had my way I would wake up in a beach shack in soft white cotton sheets and peeling wall paper. I have no desire for marble and fancy doors or fridges or expensive items. I want my house filled with cozy meaningful furniture- a straw wicker chair from a vintage store in Pioneer square, new flowers tucked between the woven strands everyday. A dresser from an LA flea market. Soft light pouring in my room. I wake up and go to the kitchen and open all the windows to let the salt air whir around like a summer snowglobe. Fresh squeezed orange juice and coffee with almond milk accompany a bowl of berries. Some days I get up at dark thirty to drive down to a surf spot and catch daybreak with ocean waves. Today I go for a run. Down the coast, into the hills, through the trails and over bluffs. I fly like an eagle and bliss washes over me.
You don’t get to chose your race, gender, sexuality, culture, family, economic class, beauty, medical condition, body type, even your religion is given to you by your parents. You know what you do get to choose? Your outlook. How kind you are to those who were born different than you. You get to choose your tolerance, your respect. You control your words. You choose to help or hurt, to engage or ignore. You can’t change your skin but you can change how beautiful your soul is.