3 Lessons from Reading Old Journals

Photo by Tirachard Kumtanom from Pexels

#1. Every cliche phrase about time is true such as it’s only a matter of time and time has a wonderful way of showing us what really matters.

There used to be a time when I rode the city bus, so I taped my bus tickets inside my notebooks. Coworkers would also give me rides, and I wished for the day when I could drive myself anywhere. It took some time, but now, I don’t use the bus anymore.

There used to be a time when I was unhappy with my jobs in customer service, and even though my current job is far from perfect, I am grateful for the job I have. 

There used to be a time when I wanted to read Russian literature. I took a Russian literature course a few years later as part of my degree plan.  

What surprised me from reading my journals was that eventually the things I wanted happened even if they took years to happen.

#2 I learn things about myself that will never change and that I’ve finally accepted.

It took me years to accept that I am a night owl. I wrote about how I didn’t feel normal for going to sleep past 11:00 p.m. I could never go to sleep by 9 p.m. or even 10 p.m. I have finally learned to embrace this part of me, and even though I have a day job, on my weekends and vacation days I no longer judge my sleeping schedule.

#3 Words are very powerful. 

Sometimes it saddens me to admit that some of my journals were filled with negativity in the form of daily complaining. I’m all for writing whatever I feel like writing, and I believe it’s important to vent on page, but I think it’s also important to document the beauty of life.

In my case, my writings led me to believe that certain parts of myself were unchangeable, but the truth was that as long as I kept portraying myself like that in my journals, I was reinforcing my limiting beliefs. So I’ve learned that through writing I can change those limiting thoughts.

What have you learned from reading old journals?

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