Last Saturday, our daughter and family, my visiting niece and hers, and my husband and I traveled to Breckenridge to have some fun— at a snow tubing facility. I didn’t participate due to the fact I was in physical therapy. Nothing major, but I seem to find excuses for not doing my exercises and didn’t want to take any chances making physical therapy last longer. While they sped down the slick runs of packed snow, I sat in the lodge at the last available table we luckily grabbed. The tall brick fireplace with its radiating fire, combined with a cup of coffee and people gazing, made for a delightful time while the others zoomed down the snowy hill. They were too far away for me to watch, but the lodge’s floor to ceiling windows and brick fireplace made for a cozy wait while drinking coffee. Once they returned from sledding, their cheeks and noses flushed, they bought hot chocolate and recounted their rides with plenty of belly laughter as they did. Their stories were infectious, and we chattered happily traveling down mountain to return home. This was clearly a day to be journaled.
However, I didn’t. In fact, I haven’t journaled since we began preparing our book for publication, which has been some time. Diana journals daily in the mornings and Sally often, too. I’ve wondered why I’ve not. The only answer I surmise is I am on a sabbatical of some sort. I had no idea writing was that intense and yes, draining at times. Yikes. As our book relays, the three of us met every week on zoom, at least once, often twice, and sometimes more. We allowed nothing to deter us.
I’m glad we each write for our blog site weekly and continue to zoom once a week to discuss our marketing strategies. During that time, we still read our personal writings on a prompt we take turns providing. I’ll return to journaling. Recording a day like last Saturday is a great memory to capture for myself and more importantly for others. As previously shown in Sally’s blog regarding her great-grandmother’s journal, capturing past memories in one’s own perspective links us to each other in a personal way.
Recounting a day, a dinner, a walk with your dog, or holding a loved one’s hand is always worthwhile. It means something special to the writer, and it will to a reader. A glorious Saturday to recall.
Looks like you had a lovely day! I started doing morning pages when I read Julia Cameron’s book “The Artists Way” and typically write each morning, but I’ve been on a sabbatical for the past week or so myself. I think we can give ourselves permission to to that!