Hi There,

There’s a big anniversary coming up in our lives, have you been thinking about it?  

This month marks the two years since the pandemic came to visit, bringing shutdowns and zoom meetings and toilet paper shortages along with fear for the well-being of our bodies and our loved ones.  Life changed abruptly practically overnight for most of us, and in the years that have followed we’ve all traveled our own pathways toward today’s “normal”. 

I have often sensed in myself and in others a preference to just move on already, to contain the pandemic firmly in the past and to view our present as untouched by the deathly grip we once felt so acutely.  But my work as a therapist and my lived experience both tell me there is hope and healing in allowing our past to speak to us in the present.  

Reflecting on the past can orient us and teach us, it can show us compassion for ourselves and for others, and it can remind us to give ourselves credit for the hills we’ve climbed and the challenges we’ve overcome.  

When I listen to myself, my clients, and my friends I hear that many of us are exhausted, numb, or stalled in survival mode.  If this is how you feel right now–some days or most days–I want you to know that you are absolutely not alone.  We have moved through something profound that has depleted us and disrupted us on many levels…all while the rest of life continued to bring changes and challenges, too.  

It takes time to recover from trauma, especially when fresh waves of loss and uncertainty have continued to crest with each pandemic peak.  We usually need to feel safety in the present before we can genuinely unpack and sort through the pain of our past.
Depending on where you live, what you do, and other circumstances of your life, you may have only started to feel safe physically, mentally, and emotionally quite recently.  For others, maybe you’ve had a sense of safety for quite some time–or maybe safety still feels out of reach for you.  

Wherever your pandemic journey has taken you, if you feel safe (enough) now, I hope you’ll take a moment this month to sit down somewhere quiet and take stock of where you’ve been.  Look back over the long path you’ve traveled and really ask yourself: what happened?, who are you now?, and how the heck are you really doing?

I’ve created a set of journal prompts to help you do just that, you’ll find them below.

​Happy journaling!

Journal Prompts
1) What was the most significant change or disruption the pandemic brought into your life?  What have been the costs and benefits of this change or disruption?
2) The pandemic brought fear, loneliness, and grief in many ways–which one of these emotions has been most present for you?  What has helped you to recognize and respond to this emotion? 
3) What is one way you’ve grown as a person during the past two years?  How did the pandemic context help or hinder this growth?
4) What lesson from the pandemic do you want to carry forward with you into the future?  What makes this important to you?​

Hi there!

I've had a recurring dream a few times over the years that goes something like this:

I'm in the place I know to be my home when I make a very unexpected discovery: I open the door to a vast series of rooms I've never seen before.  Some of these rooms are ordinary, but are so spacious and inviting they create possibilities for me to dance or relax or celebrate in ways I previously believed I didn't have room to do.  Other rooms are magical, some have windows that look out onto whales swimming in the ocean, others house a fountain that is the source of a river that runs through my whole home.  In all of these discoveries, there's this incredible recognition that my life is wide-open beyond my wildest dreams. 

I was lucky enough to have one of these dreams just recently and as I reflected on it I realized it was the perfect illustration of what I mean by "dream"  here: to give ourselves permission to discover possibilities for our lives that previously felt impossible.  

A new year provides us with the opportunity to dream big about the blank canvas that stretches out before us.  365 whole days are waiting for the artistry of our brush strokes.  

It's exciting.  And a little bit dauting.  

What if we make a mess of things?  What if our vision is too ambitious for us to execute?  What if we get our hopes up only to suffer disappointment?

These "what if" doubts can sober us up before our dreams get a chance to dance in our imaginations.  And the more we've experiences failures and dashed hopes, the harder it is for us to feel safe enough to desire anything that seems at all out of reach.  This fearful part of us was born from past pain and is worthy of compassion, but we can also set the fear aside and search for wiser, more courageous and confident perspectives within us.   

My hope for all of us this month is that we can open the door to that part of us that still believes anything is possible.  Our journal prompts this month invite you to dream boldly, to find those rooms in your life you didn't know existed, so that you can experience the joy and wonder of discovering you are bigger and more magical than you previously believed. 

Happy journaling!

Journal Prompts
In our prompts for this month, I'm inviting you to listen within you for your dreams, desires, and deepest longings.  I'm also giving you the opportunity to notice ways you may be unintentionally interrupting your ability to dream so that you can give yourself greater permission to envision big possibilities for your life. 

1) Imagine that there's a door in front of you and what lies on the other side is something you deeply want but never thought was possible.  You open the door and are amazed to discover...[continue the story in your journal!]
2) What's something you dreamed about as a child that you stopped dreaming about in adulthood? Would you like to carry this dream (or a variation of this dream) forward now? Why or why not?
3) Give yourself at least five minutes to brainstorm as many dreams as you can for the year ahead, listing each briefly with a word or phrase. What did you notice about the experience of creating this list? What thoughts or feelings emerged for you in the process?
4) What's one dream you have that you're afraid to fully flesh out? What fears get in your way of dreaming big here? How would this dream expand if you could set your fears aside?
​5) If you were granted three wishes with the guarantee that all would come true, no matter the obstacles, what would you wish for? What would change for you if all of these wishes came true?

Hi There,

I love this time of year...but not for the reasons you might think. 

Sure, the lights and the festivities bring a special sort of joy and beauty that moves me.  But what I love more is how reflective I feel during this season.  The longer nights, the crisp cold, the traditions that bring forward memories of years past--it all makes it easy for me to curl up on the couch with a hot cup of tea and sink deep into an awareness of just how much has happened in this year that is about to turn.

If you think about it, a year is long enough to bring real changes, challenges, and growth but still short enough to wrap your arms around.  It’s a chunk of time sizable enough to hold an intricate symphony of events, yet small enough we can make sense out of the movements, patterns, and transitions, revealing important insights about where we’ve been and who we’re becoming.   

To be honest, this last year wasn’t particularly momentous for me.  It held no major life changes or the sudden onslaught of a pandemic (thank goodness).  There were moments of small triumph, but nothing to brag about.  There were moments of significant struggle, but each was easy enough to weather.  I gained nothing significant--I lost nothing significant.  

Yet if I really look at myself, long and hard, I know that something subtle but so important has happened inside of me this year.  

This was the year I listened to myself, accepted myself and even loved myself with a gentle ease that’s new to me.  Relating well to myself is something I’ve worked very hard at for years, through many journal entries and therapy sessions and lessons learned and relearned (and learned again).  But in 2021, treating myself with kindness felt less like work and more like...well, just my normal state of being.  

The wonder I feel when I let myself really take that in is as thrilling as a dazzling display of lights or the taste of a fresh-baked gingersnap cookie.

Whatever the past year has been like for you, I hope this month provides you with time to cozy up to yourself and your journal to ponder all that you’ve experienced.  Whether you’ve had triumphs or struggles, seismic shifts or steady constancy, gains or losses--I promise there is something so important that has happened inside of you that’s worth noticing, naming, and celebrating.  

I’ve crafted a few journal prompts to help you do just that, you’ll find them below, ready to move you toward the special sort of joy and beauty that heart-felt reflection can bring. 

​Happy journaling! 

Journal Prompts
In our prompts for this month, I'm inviting you to look back on the year behind to help you notice important movements and meanings in your life.

1) As you look back on the past year, what are you most proud about?  This could be an area of personal growth, a challenge you overcame, a personal or professional accomplishment, knowledge you gained--or anything else that is meaningful to you.  If you could create a certificate to celebrate this, what would it say?
2) As you look back on the past year, what relationship (or set of relationships) offered you the most support and connection?  What difference did this person (or people) make in your life?  
3) What is one positive change within you, big or small, that took place this year?  What might that change tell you about who you are becoming?  
4) Try to remember your hopes for 2021 at the end of 2020.  In what ways have these hopes come to fruition?  What surprise gifts did this year bring that went above or beyond your hopes?
​5) If you've journaled this past year, take a look back at your earliest journal entry for 2021 and read through it slowly.  What stands out to you?  What might this help you notice about what you've been through and who you're becoming?

Hi there!

For many of us, November is a month where we witness the trees releasing their multi-hued leaves, making room for rest before new growth in the Spring.  

Several years ago, I was moving through a process of intense change within my sense of self.  There was so much I was releasing and the grief and uncertainty of it all was overwhelming at times.  I remember long walks through my neighborhood, my head and heart heavy with all I was carrying, and savoring the sounds and sensations of dry, disintegrating leaves crunching beneath my boots.  

It was an immense comfort to me at the time--seeing my own process play out in the natural world.  

If trees can release, I can release.  

If leaves can fall to the ground and cease to exist, I can let parts of myself and parts of my life fall away.  

Release didn't come easy to me then, though, and it still doesn't some days.  I've got a stubborn streak that can make me tenacious when I need to be, but that same stubborn streak can also keep me clinging long past when it's time to let go and move on. 

The longer I've been a therapist and the more I've grown (up) as a person, the more I've come to appreciate the necessity and beauty of the act of release.  In the definition of "release" I've included above, the word "allow" appears twice.  When we "allow" ourselves to let go of what we expected or wanted or once thought was essential, we're cooperating in a process of change as natural as what the trees move through every Fall.  When we struggle against this sort of release, it's usually like swimming up stream; it takes a lot of effort and energy to hold onto what wants to slip away from our grasp.  

To give a concrete example, a couple of years ago I set a goal for myself of writing a book.  It was a goal I'd always had in the background, but I decided to bring it to the foreground and hold myself accountable to it.  I hired a writing coach, set deadlines for myself, and wrote a pretty voluminous amount considering the time I had available.  

But then...the book I thought I was writing shape-shifted and I suddenly found myself reconsidering everything I thought I wanted to say. 

And then, a few months later, the pandemic hit and threw my whole life structure out of balance.  And then, just as life was becoming predictable again, I started to struggle with (fairly routine) health issues that impacted the time and energy I had to write. 

In all of that, I held tight.  I was not going to let anything take this book goal away from me.  I would make it happen, no matter what (hello stubborn streak).  

But then...I started accepting my life as it was instead of as I had planned for it to be.  I listened again to my hopes and dreams and realized they had shifted.  I began to trust that what had unfolded and what is continuing to unfold, and I decided to cooperate (allow!) that unfolding instead of swimming so, so hard against it.   

That release made room for me to write you this note.

That release made room for me to embrace and expand my hopes and goals for creating and sharing journaling resources and experiences.

What will you release, fellow journaler?  What will you allow?  What room will you create?

This months journal prompts invite you to reflect on just that.  Happy journaling!

Journal Prompts
In our prompts this month I've intentionally left the idea of release quite broad to give you lots of room to decide for yourself how this theme fits within your unique circumstances.  I'm using the word "something" throughout, which can mean anything you'd like, but here are a few ideas to get your thoughts flowing.
The "something" named in these prompts could include: 

• an expectation of yourself or others
• a hope, dream, or goal that hasn't come to fruition 
• a responsibility or worry you're carrying
• a person or relationship that depletes or hurts you
• a sense of resistance against a process or change that's unfolding outside of your control
• an emotion or set of emotions that have been stuck or blocked

1) What is something that are you currently holding tightly in your life that is consuming a lot of mental or emotional energy?  What impact is this act of holding on having on other areas of your life?
2) What is something you'd like to release but haven't been able to let go just yet?  What fears, concerns, or worries are contributing to your difficulties releasing this?  
3) Close your eyes, then make a tight fight with each hand, then slowly open each hand, noticing the sensations you feel in your body.  Repeat several times.  What did you notice about how it felt to move between closed and open hands?  How might this connect with how it feels mentally and emotionally to release something?  
4) What is something you released in the past that has made room for something you're grateful for in the present?  How did this release come about?  What difference has it made for you?  
5) Imagine you spent a whole week accepting your life exactly at it is, without putting any effort or worry into a desire for you or your circumstances to be different in any way.  What would you most appreciate about a week like this?  What would be most challenging about a week like this?

Hi there!

October is here and with it, lots of opportunities for play.  

In my corner of the world, this month holds the best weather we have all year with sunny days, crisp air, supremely comfortable temperatures, and gorgeous sunrises.  It makes it easy to get outside, explore, and just be present to the little pleasures life holds for us.  

I've already got my calendar of fun lined up, including visiting a pumpkin patch and meandering down a spooky trail beautifully created by our local art museum.  At some point, I'll for sure put on my favorite fuzzy bat costume, which looks precisely silly enough to make me feel carefree and a little wild.  
​
If I'm honest with myself, though, play is not as much a part of my life as I'd like for it to be a lot of the time.  It's easy for me to fall into patterns of taking myself and my responsibilities too seriously, squeezing out opportunities to lighten up, get imaginative, and let loose. 

Can you relate?

​When I think about the last year plus and the turmoil we have all lived through (and continue to live through), it seems to me many of us have grown more serious, heavier--and that fun, play, and adventure have more often gotten buried beneath the weight of it all.  Even without all the added stress of a pandemic and more, adulthood can easily feel like a series of chores if we're not intentional about leaving some things undone to make room for delight.

So I'm inviting us to intentionally play this month, in our journaling and in our living.   We are more than what we get done in a day--we deserve to treat ourselves to play, don't we?  

Play that opens us, play that frees us, play that brings laughter bubbling up from our bellies, play that enlivens us, play that reconnects us with our fabulously messy humanness...it's all so worth it.

​Happy journaling!

Journal Prompts
Here are your monthly prompts, one for each week.  Feel free to journal them as ordered or in any other way that works best for you.  I hope this prompts bring a little more play, fun, and even silliness into your days this month and onward!

1) When did you last "play", meaning did something purely for fun rather that for any serious or practical purpose?  Describe what you did and how you felt during and after that activity as best you can.  What does this experience tell you about the role of "play" in your life?  
2) What is a motto or mantra (a simple, memorable phrase) about play that you want to live by?  This could be inspired by a song, a quote, an image, or just spring up spontaneously from within you.  What would be different in your life in this motto or mantra were to guide everything you do?  
3) We're going to go ahead and play IN our journal with something imaginative here: If you could be any animal for a day, which one would you be and what would you do?  What would you most enjoy about being that animal?
4) As you look back on the past two weeks, how would you rate your overall experiences on a scale of one to ten, one being "completely serious", ten being "ridiculously fun"? Pick a number and write it down. What contributed to that balance? What balance would you like to aim for over the next two weeks? Pick a new number and write it down.

I have to admit...I've been sitting on a draft of this blog post about my story for over a month now, resisting my next steps. 

I find myself deeply aware of the vulnerability I feel in sharing my story with you, even in this brief and contained way.  There's likely many variables that go into my hesitancy to publish this post, but my sense is that the biggest contributor to my trepidation is the fact that I didn't believe my own story for most of my life.  It's still fairly new for me to tell this (honest) version of my story to others, which makes it feel unknown and risky and a bit nerve-wracking.

But I've learned the difference between the discomfort that says "run the other direction!" and the discomfort that says "you're ready to overcome your fear"--and I know this discomfort that I feel right now is the "overcome your fear" kind. 

So I'm taking a deep breath...and moving forward....now.    

Up until several years ago, I bought into a false narrative about my life that protected me from emotional pain, relational tensions, and cognitive dissonance.  I told myself and others what had been told to me--that I came from a good middle-class Christian family, had a sheltered childhood, and knew nothing of trauma or genuine adversity.  I believed I was the person other people thought I was--brave, strong, independent, competent, likeable, high-achieving.  It felt good to see myself and my life experiences through this lens.

But then I became a therapist...and that ruined everything (in the best way possible). 

Some people enter therapy training programs to heal themselves and fix their problems, but that wasn't me.  I truly believed I was just interested in psychology and wanted to be helpful to others; I didn't see myself as being in need of healing or possessing problems that needed fixing. 

By the time I graduated, though, something was beginning to shift.  The book knowledge I gained in the classroom called my attention to parts of my life I'd ignored or dismissed, but what really did me in were my (amazing, courageous, wise) clients.  

As I listened to their stories and their dreams about what they wanted to change in their lives, my clients' words took on new meaning within me.  The words I heard from my therapist chair shook loose memories and understandings of myself that began to rattle around, stirring up new thoughts and feelings, begging for my attention and care.  By the time I graduated from my therapy training program, I was knee deep in psychological rubble--I knew the time had come to sort through it. 

In my confusion and distress, I turned to the trusted friend I'd depended on in the past--my journal.  It had been a long time since I'd put words on a page just for myself, easily three years or more, but I quickly felt right at home as my thoughts tumbled out of me, cohering into sentences and paragraphs that began to capture and contain the chaos within me.
 
As I journaled, everything I believed about myself and my story began to unravel--and a new story began to take shape.  It was simultaneously terrifying and liberating (it still is). 

My supposedly idyllic childhood had actually been complicated, confusing, and stressful--and I'd felt excruciatingly alone as I navigated it all.  Trauma was something I knew intimately, it had wired every fiber of my being from a young age.  The brave, strong, independent parts of myself were qualities I'd depended on to get me through that painful and lonely chapter in my life.  My likeability was actually intense, all-consuming people-pleasing, a skill I'd cultivated to prevent (some of) the melt-downs and rages that had happened in my home.  And my achievements were a substitute for being genuinely seen and understood, trophies I clung to that helped me believe I was worth something because deep down I questioned if I was ever really loved. 

With each word, each page I journaled, I began to see myself with new clarity.  And, with this real me in view, I began to love myself with fresh compassion.  

With a heart that was open to myself, I started letting others see parts of me I'd kept hidden (my flaws, struggles, fears, self-doubts) and this sharing made room for deeper connection.  With a road-map to my past, I was more oriented to my stressors in the present and better able to soothe myself when anxiety threatened to overwhelm me.  With a mind that was grounded in my own priorities, wants, and needs, I started giving myself permission to live the life I really wanted on my own terms, without seeking trophies or accolades or approval from anyone else.

I want you to know, in case you are on a similar journey, that while that may sound beautiful and comforting (and it is!), it often didn't feel that way at the time.  Yes, my journal entries held gems of self-acceptance and even self-appreciation, and these glimpses of an emerging future were so precious to me at the time that I printed these excerpts out and carried them around inside an oversized envelope everywhere I went (I'm serious).  Yes, my journaling often felt cathartic and orienting.  Yes, the words I journaled helped me to take actions that were desperately needed to support and care for myself.    

But those highlights were diamonds in the rough, brief vistas of a promised land during a long and arduous journey.  I often wrestled with myself, questioned myself, even criticized myself in my journaling.  I unearthed and described aspects of my life I'd ignored for good reasons.  I gave passionate voice to gut-wrenching feelings of grief and anger and abandonment. 

Journaling during this time in my life didn't always feel helpful or hopeful--yet those uncomfortable, unsettling, distressing moments with my journal were ultimately such an important part of my transformation.  Learning to be in conversation with the ugliest, harshest parts of myself was essential to learning to treat myself with compassion, kindness, and acceptance.  Naming, believing, and claiming the most difficult parts of my story was central to living with authenticity, self-awareness, and emotional balance. 
  
While journaling continues to serve me and support me in a myriad of ways, the work of believing myself and loving myself is now well underway.  My journal helps me continue that work, but it comes with greater ease now that I've had so much practice traveling these beloved pathways.  My needs are evolving, and the beauty of journaling is that it's evolving right along with me.  

If you're in the process of re-writing your story and believing yourself, I see your courage and tenacity.  I want you to know that no matter how hard it is right now, someday you will look back with such gratitude for the work you are doing right now. 

If you struggle with accepting and loving yourself with all your flaws and human failings, I see your heartache and your longing for a better relationship with yourself.​  I want you to know that a different experience is possible; if you feel a shift, if you notice the beginnings of your unraveling, trust it, get curious about it, open yourself up to a new story about yourself.  

As you just read, journaling was and is powerful for me--and it may be a key to what you need right now, too.  If you've never tried journaling before, my mini-course, Starting Journaling will give you everything you need to get started.  If you've done some journaling and would like to be more intentional about writing toward a better relationship with yourself, my free resource Flourish: Weekly Journal Prompts to Help You Nurture Yourself can guide you. 

Whatever else you may choose to take from my story, I hope these words will shake something loose within you:
You're worth believing.  You're worth loving.  Always.  

When a client says to me, "What should I do about xyz issue?" I usually respond with, "I'd love to help you answer that question, but I'll need to ask you a few questions before I can answer that."  That's because there's rarely a one-size-fits-all solution to any issue, challenge, problem, or area of change.  The best way to find a custom-fit solution, one that is personally tailored for a client's unique context, is to learn as much as possible not only about the issue, but about the client's strengths, tendencies, resources and opportunities. 

Similarly, if you were here with me right now and you asked me, "Laurie, how should I go about starting or growing my journal practice?"      

I'd say, "I'd love to help you answer that question, but I'll need to ask you a few questions before I can answer that."    

Journaling is such a great tool to use to understand yourself, support yourself, and nurture yourself toward a better future.  You'll be so glad you have it on hand once you get the hang of it.  But here's the thing--journaling is deceptively simple to start (just write something anywhere!), but it often takes more effort, intention, and practice than you might expect for it to become a sustainable, consistent, reliable habit. 

And because we're all unique people living in unique circumstances, there's no one-size-fits-all pathway to a meaningful journal practice. 

There is, however, a fairly universal process that can help you learn more about what might be most likely to work for you as you start or grow your journal practice, and that's a process of self-assessment that can help you take inventory of the variables that may impact your journaling.  Knowing yourself, knowing what works for you, knowing what limitations you are likely to encounter--these are all important pieces of data to draw upon as you create and shape a journal practice that works for you. 
​
Take a few minutes to read through this list of ten quick self-assessment questions.  It may be helpful to jot down your responses, but you can simply make mental notes if you don't have pen and paper handy right now:

1. Are you an early bird or a night owl?
2. Do you thrive on routine or do you prefer to go with the flow?
3. When in your day do you tend to have the most energy and mental clarity?
4. When in your day do you tend to feel the most relaxed and reflective?
5. How much free time do you have on a typical weekday?
6. Do you tend to fill your free time in ways that help you relax and re-energize or do you tend to use that free time in unintentional or unhelpful ways?
7. Do you have recurring responsibilities that you could take off of your plate to free up more time to tend to your own needs and self-care?
8. Do you have other people in your household who impact when and where you can find time and space to be alone and uninterrupted?
9. Are you usually able to say “no” to others when saying “yes” would drain you or detract from your ability to care for yourself?
10. Do you have a physical space set aside to journal that feels inviting and easily accessible?

If these questions spark other self-assessment questions, go ahead and ask yourself whatever else comes to mind.  The more you engage this process of self-assessment, the more guidance you'll have on hand to help you along your journal practice pathway.  

Now that you’ve given some thought to the areas above, here are two more questions to ask yourself (they make great journal prompts, too!):

• What’s the biggest barrier, obstacle, or challenge you’re facing when it comes to starting or growing your journal practice?
• What’s one step you’d like to commit to taking that would help pave the way for you to journal? (I’d love for you to share it with me in the comments below!)

Whatever steps you take from here, remember it's okay to take it one day at a time, one word at a time.  It's going to take some trial and error to find your footing with journaling, so give yourself permission to start imperfectly and to make some mistakes along the way.  This list of questions and this process of self-assessment is here for you, anytime you need it as you keep experimenting, learning, and refining your unique journal practice.  

Happy journaling!  

Need more help getting started?  Check out my mini-course, Start Journaling!, it will hold your hand as you start journaling with ten whole days of inspiration and easy-to-implement instructions.  

If you've ever been in any kind of relationship (and you have, right?!), you already know the messy joy of trying to get along with another human being.  Relationships (at their best) are exciting, beautiful, supportive, stimulating, and life-giving.  Relationships can also be effortful, ugly, heart-breaking, stifling, and soul-crushing (it's a huge bummer--and it can be pretty darn confusing, too).   

As a private practice therapist who specializes in relationships, I see the good, the bad, and the ugly in human entanglements every day.  I'm also, of course, a person just like you, who has lived (and continues to live) the wide variety of experiences relationships have to offer.  

While there is so much about relationships that I will always hold loosely and will never pretend to fully understand, there are a few things I've learned for sure in my work as a couples therapist about how we can experience more of "the good" that relationships have to offer. 

I'm going to share them here, but with a bit of an unexpected twist--all of these lessons apply to our relationship to self, and more specifically, to how journaling helps us relate well to ourselves.  Here we go!

Showing up is the most important thing you can do for your relationship. 
When couples start therapy with me, I often joke that scheduling sessions is half the battle because it can be so darn hard to find a time when both people are available to meet.  Not always, but a lot of the time the degree of difficulty a couple has with scheduling correlates with the degree of disconnection and disengagement in their relationship. 

Making time and space for one another, simply showing up to the other and to that relationship, is truly at least half the battle of having a great relationship.  If your life is too full to invest in being present to someone you care deeply about--then your life is too full, period!  It may be time to re-evaluate your priorities, take some things off your plate, and get creative about how to free up more time and energy for your relationships.  Just like you can't be physically healthy without putting in consistent time and effort to eating well and being active, you can't be relationally healthy without putting in consistent time and effort.   

Journaling is a way you show up in your relationship with yourself. 
If you want to have a good relationship with yourself--one where you treat yourself with kindness, compassion, and care--you have to show up for yourself.  It's truly half the...(say it with me)...BATTLE.  When you make time and space for journaling, you're making time and space for YOU and you alone.  It's a rare opportunity to turn all your attention and energy to little old you with no need to be responsible for anyone or anything else.  

If you're life is too full to invest in journaling regularly (or any other form of relating to yourself that is meaningful to you), your life is too full, period!  You may be giving too much to other people, too much to your work, too much to life responsibilities.   Learning to say "no" to other people and demands and to say "yes" to yourself is easier said than done, but with enough practice it does get easier and the results are SO worth it.   

Conversations are the most effective way to create change in your relationships. 
You might think my job as a therapist is to "fix" relationships (I used to think so, too), but it's ACTUALLY to help people have better conversations with each other.  I firmly believe (and consistently witness) that when two people can be in dialogue with one another in productive, respectful, honest ways they can conquer just about any hurdle or challenge that may emerge. 

While it's awesome that's possible, the truth is that it's super hard to have those sorts of conversations--especially when the stakes feel high, as they often do when you love somebody a lot.  It takes a lot of emotional maturity, self-awareness, open-mindedness, and patience to dialogue well.  It's not about skills or techniques about what to say or how to say it (though some of that can be helpful), it's largely about developing the kind of inner resources that enable you to engage with others in change-producing conversations. 

Journaling is a conversation with yourself that enables change to your thoughts, feelings, and behaviors. 
While dialogue seems like it requires two people, it's completely possible to have a dialogue within ourselves.  Whenever two or more perspectives, voices, or part of our self are present, we've having an inner conversations.  Writing a "pros" and "cons" list related to a potential change is a simple example of this--the part of us that is "for" the change speaks back and forth with the part of us that is "against" change.  As we play out this conversation within us, new clarity can emerge about what we want, need, and prefer to do. 

There are all kinds of variations on this that we can play with in our journaling.  The gentle, affirming voice within us might get into a conversation with the critical voice within us.  The ambitious part of us might want to talk to the part of us that values rest and relaxation.   Our anger toward a friend might want to dialogue with our compassion toward that same friend. 

Just like how conversations with others take inner resources more than techniques, the same can be true of journaling.  While journaling provides us with a fantastic laboratory to experiment with better ways of talking to self, it doesn't magically change our self-talk.  We have to develop our self-relationship inner resources with plenty of intention and practice both on and off the journal page.  

Being deeply honest with someone else is risky, but it's also the heart of genuine connection in relationships. 
There is often a pivotal moment in couples therapy where all of the sudden, someone gets real.  Really real.  When that happens, the whole atmosphere in the room changes.  The show the couple has been putting on for me and for each other, the one where they talked about and acted in the way they thought they were "supposed to", comes to an end and the work on the relationship finally begins.

It often feels a bit shaky, chaotic, unpredictable, even unhinged when the honest truth first shows up between two people.  My stomach usually drops with empathy for the wild ride this couple is about to embark upon.  But I also know deep down that once everybody buckles up, the ride is actually a lot of fun.  When authenticity and vulnerability can be practiced in a relationship, genuine connection becomes possible--intimacy flourishes in truth-telling spaces in lively, adventurous ways. 

Journaling can open up deep honesty with yourself, which can feel risky, but is also the heart of a genuine connection to your authentic self. 
As scary as it can be to be honest with someone else, it can be just as scary (if not scarier) to really get honest with ourselves.  When we finally acknowledge what's true for us (instead of what we think is "supposed to" be true for us), we may have to feel new feelings, make hard decisions, and let go of people or pathways that aren't working for us.  It can get pretty messy and uncomfortable. 

But just as connecting with someone else requires the risks of vulnerability and authenticity, relating well to ourselves takes risk, too.  The writing we do in our journals can open the door for us to hear our honest voices with greater clarity--and it's important for us to acknowledge that can be unsettling at times.  If you find yourself writing something in your journal that makes your stomach drop, don't panic--remember this, too, is part of treating yourself with kindness.  And then buckle up for the lively, adventurous ways you're about to (re)connect with your authentic self.    

All of this is a fancy way of saying:
Relationships take work, but the rewards are rich.  
Journaling takes work, but the rewards are rich. 

Hi there, fellow journaler!

Before I share a few thoughts with you, I'd like to invite you to check-in with yourself briefly.  On a scale of 1-10, how calm do you feel right now?  Are steeped in stress or worry?  Are you carried by a sense of peace or relaxation?  Somewhere in between?  
I'll be honest, my default setting is not "calm".  My parents tell me I was born with my eyes wide open and "alert"--and I seem to have stayed "alert" ever since.  I tend to walk in a hurry, carry a boatload of tension in my shoulders, and live in the perpetual awareness of worst case scenarios.  

But on a good day, when I've journaled and gotten a good night of sleep, I find that "calm" comes and sits with me for a while.  When "calm" is close by, I feel freed up to live in the present.  I slow down.  My shoulders soften.  My breathe flows deeper into my belly and when I exhale, a whole river of worries float away.  I love those moments, I have them far more often than I used to, yet I still wish I had many more. 

Like any other ability, I'm sure there are people out there for whom "calm" comes naturally, who can count on "calm" as their default state of being.  If that's you, I'm a little jealous, but mostly, I celebrate the heck out of you--you bring something so needed to our world. 

For the rest of us, "calm" is something that takes practice, and more practice, and even more practice.  It's a little disappointing "calm" isn't usually easy to come by, but it can and does get easier over time.  And I'm here to help you practice with a little set of journal prompts for this month, you'll find them right below this note to you. 
Instead of "keeping calm", let's "practice calm" as we journal on.

​Happy journaling!

Journal Prompts
Here's a little set of journal prompts to help you write your way toward greater calm.  I'd suggest you journal one each week, engaging each one in order as you travel along the journal pathway I've crafted for you.  If you're prefer to travel them all in one week or to create your own pathway by switching up the order here, go for it!

1) On a typical day, when you tend to feel the most calm? The least calm? What clues does this offer about what helps you to feel calm?
2) Choose an object from your home that imparts feelings of calm and spend a few minutes observing it carefully. Then, put the object in front of you or in your lap as you write. Describe the object and what it means to you.
3) Was “calm” modeled for you as a child? If so, by who? If not, what do you imagine it would have been like to have “calm” modeled by an adult in your life?
4) How often are you able to do the activities that most help you feel calm? What would need to be different in your life for you to do these activities more often?

For more journal prompts on the theme of CALM, check out our 30 day Journal Journey.