Journaling This is the year I plan to come back to journaling. For my actual intention, I have set a goal of 52 journal entries in 2020. Outside of that goal, I do not know yet what I plan to accomplish. Personal growth? An outlet for stress? A place to generate good ideas? A business diary? Who knows? As a person who is generally in tight control of the things I do, I plan to just see where this takes me. I used to keep detailed diaries as a teenager and young adult. They sit untouched in my attic. I stopped writing in those journals when I realized I was writing to an audience that I hoped would someday read my memoirs, and I seemed to be faking some of my feelings. They lost their authenticity in my mind, and I lost interest in the process. The last time I looked at one was after hurricane Katrina, when I was sorting through important documents and mementos (you read that right, after. When we didn’t loose everything, my husband and I decided to get organized and sort through the “important” pile of things we had been preparing to evacuate in previous storms). When my husband and I were dating, we kept a joint travel journal. In truth, that was more a collection of love letters to each other, written in foreign countries during our youth. I love those journals, but I wouldn’t really call it journaling, because we knew the other person would ultimately read it. On the eve of my medical school graduation, my mom gave me her diary that she started when I was born. I read it cover to cover in one night. I tried to do something similar for my kids but ultimately got distracted. So I guess this experience will be different. This journal is not meant for other people. It is meant for me.