Journaling used to be something I did when I was down. I journaled regularly from around 7 or 8 years old all the way through life. Mostly it was text. Pages and pages (and pages…seriously I wrote a lot in one sitting) of emotional text. I would write and it would sit on the page and fester.
They say there’s no wrong way to journal but, for me, that was the wrong way. I spilled everything onto the page without processing my feelings.
When Hekate entered my life this year She set me on a journey to find the right way. First with bullet journaling. I learned to organize all the things in my head without being too restricting. Tasks, events (what few I may have), journaling, and the endless supply of random ideas I have. All in one place.
I became comfortable with the my junk drawer of a mind and fell into an easy step with my bullet journal. Hekate led me by the hand (tugging at me a little to keep up…because She’ll do that) to the point in my journey where I now rest comfortably: traveler’s notebooks.
The method is simple -small notebook “inserts” placed into a simple cover via elastic bands- and the system of bullet journaling can still be applied. I tackled the DIY lifestyle and made my own notebook cover and inserts (after much trial and error even still). My traveler’s notebook has become more than “the thing I journal in”. It’s a companion, a friend, and assistant.
Like a horcrux, but without the murder and the evil. A piece of me lives in it.
I’m finding that this is increasingly more true as I move forward with this style of journaling. At this stop on the journey, Hekate has shown me that journaling does not need to be frantic words that I spill onto the page without thought. It can be a tool for discovering myself not only later, but as I‘m journaling. It can be artistic. Visual. Interactive.
Ah, yes. Art journaling is where I have found myself from following behind Hekate’s billowing cloak.
I have never considered myself an artistic person. I used to cringe at the sight of any doodle, sketch, or handcrafted artwork of mine, be it traditional or digital. Now I look at my journal pages with watercolors and collages and I’m inspired and grateful to have discovered this ability, this piece of myself that I had never met before.
I find myself needing fewer words to express my thoughts and emotions. I react to my thoughts as I place them on each page and record them in turn. I draw conclusions and find solutions without brewing over my frustrations for days on end.
And at this stop, Hekate has gotten off the journey. Perhaps only for the time being.
Poseidon never made me choose but I’ve come to understand that I did so anyway. I didn’t put Him in a position to have to ask me to choose. Now Hekate lurks around the edges, patient, perhaps, for me to call on Her again.
I feel the openness of the space that W/we had made for H/her and I know that now W/we have to fill it back in. My pace has faltered from losing this Friend. This Guide. This Wise Woman who showed me my own hands and let me see their beauty.
I feel no malice from Her, but I know that if and when the time comes that I return to Her, it better be bearing gifts and marks of progress.