Goodbye, Journal

Sorry, Journal. My journey with you was long, meaningful, and necessary. But, unfortunately, my motivation to keep you around has become too low. Primarily, you require too much of my wrist and forearm. This may seem silly, but consider that I have a 35+ pound child that I tote around regularly. This child also uses my entire body as a jungle gym. My arms are busy swinging, moving, throwing, lifting, sifting, rearranging, changing, cleaning, opening, closing, placing, holding...my wrists also suffer from these inevitable activities. The weight on my forearm required to prop up my son on my hip, holding his bottom tight enough so he doesn't topple onto the linoleum, creates a tiredness that...unfortunately for you...keeps me from picking up a pen. So, I'm moving on to the art of blogging. This is difficult because it's less intimate for me. I will miss our candlelit sessions at night, listening to the melodies of Josh's snoring. I will miss the inflections of my private voice and the openness of your gloriously blank pages. I will also miss the beautiful design on your cover, encouraging me to find the same intricate qualities in my own life. You helped me find the mosaic charm of my everyday life as a mother, wife, teacher, and child of God. But, our visits together have been too infrequent lately. I haven't grown or searched these past months because of the basic reality of the pen being too tiresome to work with. It's time, then, for me to move on.

Hello, Blog! From the start, you must know that I don't really like you. This is a tough place for me because I've chosen to invest in this relationship, even though I don't believe in it. I already miss my journal. You will never smell as good as its pages. You will never give me reasons to shop for quality pens. But, I still believe it's worth giving you a shot. Here's why.

You are more available to me in this time of confusing contentment. My time is more precious now than ever. But my heart and soul are also cherished, beloved, and neglected. I no longer have the emotional energy or physical exertion it takes to stay in a relationship with my journal. You might think this is all too dramatic. You might be right. But, as a writer and a person deeply in need of introspective clarity, this is where I have landed: I need a less-exhaustive way of exploring the personal and maternal dimensions to my life.

Here is what I hope to gain from this relationship (I think it's important you know from the start): I want you to provide motivation for me to externalize the chaos that exists inside my head. Let me explain. I am a person that never stops thinking, never stops questioning, never stops striving to become the best version of myself. Right now, however, I do not have many outlets for these thoughts, nor do I have energy to explore them the way they deserve. There are many dusty ideas, shelved in the back of my mind, that I'm hoping to get out, clean off, and set forth. This is not your responsibility, but being the nature of what you are, I believe that you will be the platform necessary for me to begin building this towers of thought and ideas. I'm hoping that, if anyone ever joins this journey through reading, others might find motivation to do the same.

So, this is the beginning of a lot of nonsense, most of which will not be worthy of readers. I admit this now. Others use this public venue of self-exploration mindlessly and immaturely. That bugs me. Yet, here I am. I admit that I am a hypocrite, but I believe you can forgive me for that. I hope that this journey stretches me, challenges me, and even provides guidance for me as I navigate through the waters of motherhood, marriage, and identity.