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The secret to discover who you are

discovering who you are

If you’re anything like me, you seldom know for sure what you know.

I mean, the older I get the less sure I am of anything.

But despite how little I know for sure, and how often our minds can change, the only way I have ever found the answers have been in quiet.

In the silent moments where everyone and everything else falls away.

The moments when it’s just me and a notebook and pen.

I began journaling about fourteen years ago after heartbreak left me starting my life over.

I decided to take a trip across Europe for seven weeks.

By myself.

All I had was what I could carry in a backpack, and my journal was my only friend.

I had never traveled by myself. Two years before this trip I had no idea how to even be alone.

I made no plans and had no itinerary.

I left to see the world on a whim.

Across six countries in seven weeks I penned out the pages of my heart.

Celebrating New Years in the early morning streets of Germany, savoring meats and cheese for breakfast. Into the magical world of the Swiss Alps, down the ancient Roman roads to the steps of the colosseum. Shaking mandarin trees along the Ligurian sea, climbing up to the statue of David. Skiing the slopes of Austria and singing karaoke at apres ski. Exploring the canals of Holland and the hostel in the red light district. The Shelter. The old streets and windmills of Belgium.

Memories captured in time.

Just a girl figuring out who she was.

Heartache, heartbreak, grief and so much freedom.

I found out who I was, all by myself.

I’ve come to find it’s the only way we can ever know, for sure. When the voices fade and everything else falls away, and all we have is us.

My journal was my only companion and I fell in love with her.

Me.

The girl I was traveling with.

I found out so much about her. What she loved, who she wanted to be. The things that made her heart smile, and her tears fall.

I wore out a pair of shoes and filled three journals in my travels. Though I had only the clothes on my back, I came home rich.

She taught me to write. She encouraged me to listen to my own heart and honor my voice.

For me, writing is how I figure out what I already know. Where I discover who I really am.

How I remember, because I tend to forget.

It’s where I dream and pray and give thanks.

Because there is so much to be thankful for.

Do you ever wonder who you are, or what you love?

Today’s Challenge: Start a journal. If you already have one, start writing again. If you don’t have one, go get one! I love looking back at my collection of journals from across the last decade and seeing how different they are. Opening them and finding how much they are the same. Words and pages and pens and color. Threads that tie them all together. They are me. And I treasure them.

This is day 23 of our Revolt Against Busy Challenge! You can sign up and find everything you missed at the homepage right {here}.


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