Finding a purpose for journalling, and memory-keeping through the act of writing

I have so many things to write about and talk about, to be honest. Sometimes those things seem silly. Nobody needs to know things like “my iPad cover is collecting so much dust, it has changed colour” or “I think I am going to die from this backache” which is why I started writing a daily journal in the first place. I have never placed much importance on my journals because who would want to read that stuff?

But then I watched this amazing video on YouTube that talks about how diaries of boring people are really really good pieces of historical literature. It is a nice, wholesome thought that if I leave behind my journals, some historian may find them interesting in 100 years or so. It gives me more purpose, I think. And certainly makes me feel less silly about writing about my mundane problems. I’m preserving memories of this time, which is so, so hard to do.

I feel like purpose for whatever you’re doing is very important. Not only does it give you direction, but it also saves you from decision fatigue. Of course, not everyone is going to agree with me, and that’s okay. But this is what I think works for me. If you know the “why” of something you’re doing, and what you want out of it, it will be so much easier to carry on with the said thing.

And yes, although journalling is supposed to be a “freeing” and “relaxing” exercise, for the longest time I didn’t quite know why I was doing it. I had read about the many benefits of writing and journaling, but I had never really given the actual practice a thought from my perspective. Add to that the tendency to be a perfectionist, which meant that I was pushing myself to write good and interesting things in my journals even when nothing good and interesting had happened that day. I wanted each entry to be a polished piece of autobiographical literature and that was obviously a soul-sucking exercise.

I have returned to journaling and writing in times of personal crisis. I am not someone who enjoys talking about their issues with people because I feel like I might be either wasting their time or ruining their mood with negativity. So I turned to the act of writing. Now when I open my 4–5-year-old journals, they contain page after page of misery. I realised this in the past couple of years. I realised that I did not want to leave a story of my life that only highlighted my worst times and speak nothing of the good days. This idea fuelled me for a while but it quickly became tiring as well. I was pushing myself too hard, yet again.

The discovery of this one little video has kind of shifted the way I looked at journaling. I am doing okay, generally speaking, but I also write about those things now. I write about ordinary days, and I write about frustrating days. It is kind of freeing and I don’t know if this too will get tiring but I know for a fact that my desire to record my life will never go away. Maybe I will find newer ways to journal. Or maybe I will find newer reasons. Who knows? The future is an endless field of possibilities.