I know what you’re thinking. I hadn’t been much of a fond believer of ‘New Year’s Resolutions’ either. The concept seemed too optimistic. At least for me. And I couldn’t bear the frustration of the pre-destined doomsday. All resolutions break; that’s in their destiny. Whoever takes breakable promises seriously! We all pompously declared we’d be in touch on the 12th-grade farewell, didn’t we? Now, we have a circle of friends lesser than the fingers on one hand.
But this time, I pushed myself to give ‘ME’ a chance as an adult who gave up on resolutions as a concept in their teens. The motivation? Well, it was something I had been wanting to begin for years but couldn’t because I was simply incapable of arranging the minimal resources required just in time. You see, I wanted to start journaling on one of those diaries made especially for the year. And I wanted my first entry to be precisely on the 1st of January, not a day sooner or later.
Why Journaling?
Weirdly enough, this desire was conceived in the 9-year-old kid who was completely awestruck when she discovered that Sanjay Singhania had maintained a diary that bespoke his story before he got so brutally injured by Ghajini. I was hooked by the idea of writing my story and preserving it, so to speak. Like a piece of forgotten history. No, not for anyone else, but for myself.
And because I owed it to that 9-year-old girl, around 1.5 hours before the clock struck 12 and 2024 became a reality, I rushed to the closing stationary and purchased my maroon leather diary, my first ever journal.
My First-Ever Entry
To be honest, it’s not been very easy. But so far, I’ve not missed my entry a single day. Yes, of course, I’ve been a couple of hours late making entries past midnight, but I allow myself that leverage. I am not pressuring myself to make entries because I wanna reach a point where I actually want to resort to my diary at the end of the day.
I distinctly remember my first entry. Hell! I’ll just show you –
Ignore my terrible handwriting, but note I was as honest as I could be. Journaling is still very new to me. It’s an experiment at the end of which I’m hoping I’ve taken myself somewhere. Some place better in life.
The Hard Part
They say it takes 21 days to build a habit. Well, it’s been more than a month and a half, and I can’t say there haven’t been days I’ve almost forgotten about journaling right until the very last second or haven’t been so very annoyed that I’ve to be accountable to myself, even on bad days. I apologise to the diary as if it were a living, breathing entity on those days, which is MANY DAYS.
Okay, that’s enough.
I have also realised the hardest part is picking up the pen. That’s it. Because, unless you’re sick, when you start writing, you really don’t realise when you’ve reached a point when you’re fighting for space, trying to confine as many words as possible.
Also, it takes me about 13 minutes to finish an entry, which is good because I also happen to like the number 13. (I’m a Swiftie, you probably guessed it).
But has it changed me?
I think it’s still too soon to tell whether I sense a major personality evolution (hopefully) in myself. However, I know for a fact that because I’m writing to myself every day, I’m a lot more accountable to myself than I ever was. I hate the feeling of not having done enough. And not in a self-pressuring sort of a way, but I mean being productive in all respects. And this means stealing an afternoon nap on a long weekend is as productive as finishing long-due documentation.
There’s also an emotional clarity that’s seeping through me. Like, many times, when you’re overwhelmed you just try to escape stuff. But when you write it down, you see things clearly. You get a perspective. And not to brag or anything, but because of writing it out, I’ve been able to put situations, people, and life into perspective, many a time. And, well, if that’s not a positive achievement, then what is?
So Far…So Good
If I consider journaling a New Year’s resolution, then it’d be my first to make it beyond a week. But honestly, I don’t want to consider it one. This started as an experiment to do something for the girl I was 16 years ago. I owed it to her. And so far, even though, I’ve had days I want to cease continuing this, I’ve survived. I happen to like it now, as frustrating as it can get. So far, it’s been good. It’d be one of the things I add to my resume and actually mean it.