why journaling is like time traveling
The human memory is fickle. Certain things that happen will stay with you forever, while other things will quickly fade. For example, the experience of hiking up to Arthur's Seat (pictured below) will forever be engrained in my mind, yet I’m quite sure my brain erases every memory of every car ride I’ve ever taken. Despite being aware that this is the brain’s way of categorizing, storing, and recalling information, I can’t help but feel somewhat disappointed that my memory doesn’t serve me better.
The idea of remembering has been a trigger point for my family during the last few years, namely because my grandmother suffered from Alzheimer’s. When she passed away, she left a considerable amount of memorabilia in a large box, including family trees that she had drawn out and photos of ancient ancestors that she had collected over a lifetime. Some were labeled, some were not. Some had dates, some did not. Some photos were so old that they had been developed on tintype, an iron plate dating back to the 1800s.
The people in these photos are from different lifetimes - different centuries. These are the people responsible for all of us being here. And yet, we have no idea who they are, let alone know their names. The gravity of what this meant hit me.
Humans have long been obsessed with immortality: the idea of living forever in one way or another. It is why we want children, why we work so hard to achieve success and power. We want to be remembered after we’re gone. Our efforts are futile, when you think long and hard about it. Eventually, every living memory of you or me will vanish with those who once knew us. It is the natural way of things. I suppose that’s why they say photographs and videos are time machines, freezing and capturing a moment in time and allowing others to visit it, if only briefly.
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There are so many meaningful conversations I have had that I want to keep. So many ideas, thoughts, moments. I want to keep them if not for myself, then for someone in the future. Journaling allows me to do this.
I’ve heard plenty about the benefits of writing down your thoughts. Expressing your emotions and what’s going through your mind is a morning routine practiced by many. The goal is to clear your head of its demons so you can get on with your day. Journaling is similar to this, however it is also a recollection of your day. In a journal entry, I write down events that happened on a given day, where I went, who I talked to, and what we talked about. On a day where I did nothing, I write exactly that. On a day where I was caught up in my own daydreams, I jot those down as well. In essence, it’s about capturing your daily experience in words.
There are many uses for this. For one, I can look back on conversations I had with people and remember what we spoke about last, allowing me to pick up where I left off when I meet up with them again. I can also journey back to a time when I had a different perspective or opinion and understand why I made certain decisions. I can go back and relive the time I was in my first year at university, feeling lost and depressed. I can relive the day when I got to act in my sister’s film. I can relive the time I went to Newfoundland and spent my days climbing waterfalls and sipping on Coronas. I can relive the last time I saw my grandmother.
Perhaps I’m naïve to think that down the road, someone will truly be interested in sitting down and spending hundreds of hours flipping through the chronicles of my life. But I know that this may be the closest, most intimate way for someone to understand who I was. My personal intention is to one day be able to look back through my journal entries to remember what a life I had. I'll be able to experience every moment all over again like it's new.
That is the value of journaling. It allows you to defy the boundaries of time. Now, that is cool.
— K. JO