Journals--Windows to the Soul

I used to be a writer.  Or so I say now.  I suppose in a way I've always been a writer.  I have a tendency to fall asleep at night by creating stories in my mind.  I also spend my time in the shower doing the same thing.  Come to think of it, the car, too.  I used to think that these stories would be something I could write down and someday sell in a bookstore.  Now, those ideas have taken a backseat to a career in student affairs.

Once upon a time, however, a few people did believe in my ability to write and enjoyed the stories I created and shared with them.  Over the years, I've been given plenty of journals by friends and family as gifts and I generally write a few things in them before giving up, stowing them in a pile in my closet, and waiting until i receive a new one or am too depressed to know what to do with my feelings.

Generally, that's all these journals are--outlets for me to express my sadness, confusion and teenage angst.  I'd quote some things on here, but I can't embarrass myself that much.  One of the journals contains several pages of poems that I now look back on and question what message I was trying to send.  The most unique one I own, however, was given to me by an old friend.  I know there's a lot of love in it; I can feel it every time I open it.  The friend who gave it to me spent spring break down in New Orleans, LA helping rebuild homes after Katrina devastated the area.  While she was there, she had this created for me.
The front reads in Spanish:

 Solo espero la noche para poder sonarte.

The back:

Jamie

 Lost moon in the deep dark blue eternal night and new life for the poet

These journals, now more a keepsake than anything else, were what helped me get through my years in high school, and a few even through my years of college.  This particular one has very little writing in it.  I once started a novel about four characters looking back on their lives and how they met and what brought them to be only three.  Each of these characters were based loosely on some friends I had in high school--one based on a friend who passed away from cancer a few years ago.

I remember the day I wrote the scene in my journal.  I was having such a terrible day, stressed with the relationship I was in that was failing, and decided to head to my favorite place to de-stress.

I'll share my secret with you all.  There's a road by my home in New Jersey and it's fun to drive, especially when blasting music in the car.  So, that's what I did on this particular day.  I drove to my favorite spot on the road and parked my car to walk down to the bridge over the water.  I remember it being autumn because the ground was a little cold to sit on, but I did it anyway.  I wrote for a while about the main character and her struggle to deal with her sadness, which helped me deal with mine.  And, I suppose, that's how it's always been for me.  When I'm sad I write or create stories in my head.

It's made me think about the students I advise, or will advise in the future.  Having an outlet--a safe, productive outlet--is important to being successful.  Taking a break, dealing with stress and growing are important at any point in life, but learning how to do that while in college will make the years go by smoother.  Students who don't connect with their feelings, be it through writing, music, exercising, etc. may make poor decisions and never truly understand who they are and what is happening inside of them emotionally.

I'm grateful that I had the opportunity to learn how to do this at a younger age and I hope to be able to guide my students towards the direction of their healthy outlets.