Dear Diary (Episode #2)

*This is the second in a series on productive, actionable, and inspirational journaling. To read the first post in the series, click here! 

Today is Monday. It's the first day back to the 'real world' for me after a week-long spring break, and I'll be honest: It hasn't exactly been great. First, there was the waking up and not being able to fall back asleep -- thirty minutes before the alarm was supposed to go off. I should have just gotten out of bed, but I didn't. I lay awake worrying about all there was to do. 

Next, there were all the students who hadn't done their homework, or were struggling with the back-to-school blues, or couldn't remember what a pronoun was. (I can't say I blame them; my mind was pretty off-kilter, too.) 

There was the garbage that the squirrels had gotten into, the taxes being done last minute, the old dog who had an accident on his bed. 

It was a Monday. After a vacation. There were lots of Monday-it's-not-vacation-anymore things. 

Okay, don't worry -- this isn't a post about how hard life is, blah blah blah; in fact, life is pretty good (see the end of this post).

I bring up all this tough stuff because it DOES relate to today's topic: Writing When We REALLY Don't Feel Like Writing. 

Specifically, journaling when we really don't feel like journaling. 

Here's the thing: Writing in my journal -- in fact, writing of any kind -- is often the MOST restorative when it's absolutely the last thing I want to do. And on a day like today, it's pretty much the last thing I want to do. Still, I know that if I do a few deliberate, easy things, I'm guaranteed to feel better, if even just a little bit. 

It's easy to think that venting on the page is what will deliver us this written restoration, but I've actually discovered that written venting, like most verbal venting, only leads to feelings of greater anxiety and even guilt -- jeesh, Beth; your life isn't THAT bad. 

What's worked better for me is a slightly more structured form of venting, one that's guided by specific questions instead of hot-headed inertia. 

Here's the method, step-by-step, for what' I'll call Effective Journal Venting (EJV -- it's official). 

1. Get out your journal, a sheet of blank paper, or a clean document on your computer. 

2. I'm a realist; if you're doing this while you stand at your kitchen counter waiting for your TV dinner to warm up, that's totally cool. You don't have to light a candle. You don't have to set a timer for 20 minutes -- but of course, if that's your jam, jam on. 

3. List the top 3 feelings you're feeling -- single words are enough -- and leave some space between each one -- you're going to do some venting in that vaulted space. 

4. For each feeling, answer the following questions -- quick and dirty, or thoughtful and slow; just do what feels right to you: 

WHY am I feeling this way? What brought it on? (Note: It's best not to be too detailed here -- you don't want to get lost again in the 'he said/she said'; give us your Spark Notes -- the gist of the upset, the Instagram photo caption version.)

HOW does this feeling feel in my body? (Describe the sensation as vividly as you can -- this can also be an opportunity to practice some creative writing. Do you feel like your body is submerged beneath a shroud of fury or sadness? Does your worry sound like one thousand crackling panes of broken glass? *A Note on the Body: This little trick can help us move out of our heads and back into the present moment. The present moment always shows up in our body, but we’re often pretty good at tuning out the messages our bodies are sending our way.)

INTERMISSION: Before you move on to the final question, pause and actually pay attention to your body. Take a deep breath. Drink a glass of water. Go to the bathroom. Stretch.

HOW might I feel about this thing that made me feel this way in one week? Will this still matter, then? (Usually, I find that the answer to this question is that I won't care, or that I'll probably have forgotten the grievance altogether, but if it will still be haranguing you, then you've gone one more question to answer: *What's one thing I can do this week to help myself deal with this more gently--towards myself and others?*)

5. Now, if it feels good, tear up the sheet of paper and toss it in the garbage. Permanently delete the document. Take your TV dinner out of the microwave, pour yourself a glass of wine, and move on. Repeat as needed. 

And, as you're drinking your glass I've wine (I'm drinking mine as I type), you could do what I'm doing: Thinking about all the beautiful things that still come filtering in, quietly and kindly, amidst all the stuff that seems so tough: 

I'm old enough to buy and drink wine. 

I have a washing machine in which to wash the old dog's bed. 

My husband is patient and kind and cleaned up the spilled garbage so I didn't have to. 

Tomorrow, my students will likely have completely forgotten my bad mood, and we'll all begin again. 

I have work to do that challenges my empathy skills, for myself and for others, and I'm paid money to practice that empathy, and that money pays this here stack of bills. 

It is spring. The buds are alive on the trees, and the sun won't set for another hour. 

Thanks for reading. 

Over To You: What's your preferred method of venting or releasing stress in a productive way after a long day? Let me know in the comments!