Minilogue - November 2007

Paper Sanctuary

By the Rev. Bruce Johnson

When people ask me to recommend a spiritual practice, I often suggest keeping a journal. It’s a simple and straightforward practice, and one that is well-grounded in Unitarian Universalist history. Many of our nineteenth century Transcendentalist forebears, such as Margaret Fuller and Ralph Waldo Emerson, kept journals, well....religiously. Emerson found in his journals a rich resource for his sermon-writing and later his essays. He returned again and again to harvest insight and understanding from the raw material of his journal pages.

Journals provide a kind of “paper sanctuary,” an open structure within which one is free to reflect, remember, experiment and explore. There are no hard-and-fast rules to keeping a journal, so it is easy to personalize the practice. I tend to favor a book with blank pages, for example, which allows me to draw pictures and doodle as well as to write, but I know people who swear by lined notebooks --loose-leafed or bound-- and even some who keep their journal on the computer. In whatever form it takes, the journal is a sign and symbol of mindfulness, of paying attention to one’s own life. Find a format that works for you, and honor your own experience by recording it on a regular basis, preferably daily. I have kept a journal in one form or another for more than twenty-five years. In that time, there have been some long stretches without any entries, and other periods of intense self-examination or observations of the outer world (travel diaries, for example). Some people keep journals that are focused on specific themes - money or dreamsor a specific time period, such as a pregnancy. Journaling can be one of the most flexible instruments in your spiritual toolbox.

As the ancient Chinese proverb puts it, “The strongest memory is weaker than the palest ink.”

When I look back over my old journal entries, I am often struck by the realization that there are many interesting events and incidents that I would never have remembered if I had not written them down. Other entries conjure up memories of places and people who remain important parts of my spiritual journey. The texture of a life is captured, though never entirely contained, in the text; details of place, character, and mood that would have otherwise faded away are able to find their place in one’s story. God, as they say, is in the details. Over time, patterns may emerge in one’s story, along with a larger sense of freedom with respect to choices and meanings. In this way, a journal can serve as a kind of intimate mirror of the soul, a faithful and honest companion on the journey of life.

Bruce