Tag Archives: journaling

How to Find the Secret Wisdom in Your Social Media Activity

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My millennial children don’t seem to be bothered at all by the steady influx of information that is presented to us on social media.  This is after all “life as they know it” and because I like to keep up with them, it is “life as I know it now.” After years of questioning the value of what I perceived as information overload, I have come to appreciate the beautiful images and inspiration generated by my favorite wisdom authors.  Through social media, I can actually have  a conversation with them. Still, I wonder how many of us are integrating into our lives all that we like and share and tweet…

Recently I learned about an important function that has emerged in this warp-speed environment of the tweet and retweet – the role of information curator. (A curator is a keeper, custodian, overseer who “takes care of” a collection.) The information curator shares blogs, articles, studies, images and many other forms of content from a particular subject, and becomes an expert for others who then rely on this trusted source for reliable information related to the topic.

While I am not currently as active with sharing content on my social media sites as others do, I’m a curator myself, a curator of the inner life. See, for years, I’ve been writing my own life lessons as I record heartaches, joys, family memories, losses, gains, thoughts and ideas. Every January 1st, I review my last year’s journal entries to notice recurring themes and influences shaping my life. And, in this “curation” of my writings, I learn – about myself, about who and what matters to me, about my dreams and hopes, about what excites and scares me, about who I am and how I want to be remembered. I discover the journal entries that I would “retweet” – because it rings just as true weeks and months later as it did when I first wrote it – or the ones that I would “like” into my “favorites” in order to keep track of insights I don’t want to forget.

If journaling is not your thing or it just isn’t something that you’ve ever tried before, then here’s a simple and meaningful exercise that you can do to identify what you have been drawn to in social media and how it contributes to the development of your own inner wisdom.

  1. Pick a social medium that you use-maybe it’s Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, LinkedIn or any of the other sites you use for sharing.  It doesn’t matter which you choose to review.
  2. If you are very active (every day or two) then go back over the last week of shares, posts, likes, retweets, etc.  If you’re not as active, choose a longer timeline like a month or more of content.
  3. Read over your content. If you posted or wrote articles, make a list of the article titles.   If you shared pictures, then select one word or phrase to describe each one and add these to your list.
  4. Now, look over your list and answer the following questions: “What do I notice about the content of what I shared, liked, retweeted etc.?  Is there a primary theme or category to the photos, words or phrases that were used?       
  5. Then, ask yourself, “What am I learning about myself or what have I noticed is important to me?   

After you have completed the exercise, sit quietly for a moment and recognize that your inner wisdom has been at work – collecting insights, ideas, thoughts, and perceptions that you are curating every day, every second of the day.  You can trust that this wisdom will be available to you when you stop and listen deeply, often providing answers to your own life questions when you least expect it.

Thank you for reading and reflecting.
If you wish, please leave a comment, reflection or thought below so that we can all learn from our shared wisdom and insights.

Mom’s Holy Week-April 14-21, 2002

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Today is April 14, 2017.  It is poignant that it is Good Friday and a beautiful, sun-shiny day.  No matter what is going on in my life, I always know when it is Holy Week.  I could be on a desert island with only the rising and setting of the sun to guide my days and I would still feel it in my bones.  My mother’s last birthday on earth was on Good Friday in 2002.  It was one month before she would enter the final phase of a three year trek with pancreatic cancer.  I planned to travel to Chicago to care for her and had no idea how long I would be gone.  I was determined to stay with my mom until she passed even though she didn’t want me to be away from my family for an extensive time.

As the days unfolded I recorded them with ten minute entries in my journal.  The words written on those pages spark my memory and show me how her experience mirrored the events of a figurative Holy Week, the days leading up to the celebration of Easter.  Since this was my mom’s favorite holiday, it is a fitting ending to her life.  Here is a glimpse into:

Mom’s Holy Week:  April 14-21, 2002

  • My arrival on Sunday: Mom is upbeat and energetic as she eagerly made plans to celebrate my sister-in-law’s birthday the following weekend.  It is a day full of celebration just like Palm Sunday. 
  • Monday-The Last Supper: I met the hospice nurse today and she remarked how good mom looks…. At 4:00 p.m. mom wanted dinner, which was unusual because she had eaten a late lunch, but she pulled out all the leftovers from last night and thoroughly enjoyed what ended up being her last meal.
  • Tuesday-The Betrayal of her Body: Mom falls in the middle of the night/early morning and we lay on the bathroom floor together until help arrives.  “Oh God help me,” she prays.
  • Wednesday-Birthday of beloved son: Mom’s whole face lights up when she sees my brother come in to the room.  It is his birthday.  She strokes his cheek and says “I’m so glad you made it.”
  • Thursday-Mom’s decline was so sudden like that of the ruby-colored tulips that wilted in her room. The medication is beginning to take effect and she smiles weakly when visitors come to see her.  I wish I were a nurse.
  • Friday-Mom and dad share a moment that shows me that she has forgiven him for past hurts.
  • Saturday—I am alone with mom in the quiet incubation of her room. She is unresponsive to me but I read to her from the book of letters that had been written by us to express our love and gratitude to her.  It was by her bedside.  She must have read them often.
  • Sunday—It is now 9:10 PM. This morning mom’s breathing became labored and I called hospice to ask what I should do.  Following their instruction to count her respirations, my sister called our brothers to “come quickly.”  When we were all around her bedside, mom took her last breath and entered her New Life.  It was 12:40 PM   (Note:  From this point forward I always put the time of my journal entries next to the date).

It was symbolic to me that my mom died one week after my arrival.  Following the Holy Week metaphor, it would have been like Easter Sunday.  Since it was also the day that we were going to celebrate my sister-in-law’s birthday, the food was already prepared.  This is so typical of my mom to plan for our meal.

Writing in my journal allowed me to record precious memories at the time they happened, while re-reading the entries years later enables me to see connections that I might miss.  For example, even though I wasn't expecting my mom to go so quickly when I arrived in Chicago to care for her, my journal writing process revealed a moment of intuitive insight 2.5 years earlier in which I reflected:

"Mom is doing so well and I told my brother-in-law that I thought she would continue like this until the decline toward death and then it would be fast (not gradual).  I know that this is what she prays for and I hope that she gets what she wants."  (September 21, 1999)

The events and reflections recorded in my journal not only honor my mom's memory, but help me to experience her presence even today.  For instance, recently I found a listing of a Catholic Mass schedule taped in my journal that showed I had a Mass said for my mom on April 18th.  I smiled, and felt a slight tingle fill my heart because her great-grandson was born several years later on April 18, 2014.  It was Good Friday.

 

If you would like to learn more about how to use journal writing to record your memories, please contact me.

Why Write a Family Portrait?-The Value of Family Storytelling

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Family stories help us understand who we are.

As part of our 2 ½ year old grandson’s bedtime ritual, he loves to hear the names of his family members recited in a story or nursery rhyme.  Recognizing who belongs with whom, he knows that Aunt Lindsay goes with Uncle Jason and Nanny goes with Pop Pop.  He even remembers the names of relatives he sees on rare occasions and will let us know if we leave anyone out. We sometimes sing the names as a fun song, and he always asks for “more family” when the list has been exhausted.  Instinctively, he responds to the stories and songs like a security blanket being woven around his young life.   

Children and adolescents benefit from family storytelling.

According to a study by Duke and Fivusch of Emory University, children who knew a lot about their family history also scored high for levels of self-esteem and feelings of control and capability.  In addition, Elaine Reese, Professor of Psychology at the University of Otago in New Zealand reports the following benefits of family storytelling:   

  • Preschoolers show an increase in rich vocabulary and understanding the emotions of others
  • Pre-teens demonstrate solid self-concepts
  • Adolescents experience low rates of depression and anxiety

Children and teenagers clearly benefit from belonging to something bigger than themselves and being part of a “strong intergenerational self,” as described by Duke and Fivusch.  

What is the value to adults--the ones telling the story?

Transforming our family memories into a meaningful story is not only a gift to the next generation, but it is one we give to ourselves. By examining our relationship to the people who have formed and shaped our values, we begin to define our resilience and character.  We can also learn to see the humor in our experiences and identify the support that has helped us cope in difficult situations. This is especially important for those of us who grew up in dysfunctional families.  The search for meaning and healing may have broadened our definition of who we consider to be “family,” so including these special people adds depth to our story. 

Learning to write the stories that make up your family portrait involves a willingness to explore.   Being guided to a number of simple writing techniques will help you identify the lessons learned so the storytelling develops meaning.  Since you are the author of these stories, you are the one to determine what and if you wish to share and assemble into an album of written portraits that reflect the richness of your family’s shared experience.

For information about our next workshop, click here.

Honoring Our Memories During the Holidays

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I recently attended the calling hours of an old friend who had passed away. He was a kind man who had touched many lives, so the receiving line was full as we slowly moved down to the visitation area. It had been more than a decade since I had seen his wife and kids even though we had vacationed together when our families were young. As the receiving line moved closer, the son glanced over in my direction and smiled. I smiled back even though I thought he was looking at someone else: “Surely he didn’t remember me?” However, when we stood face to face, his steady look of recognition was clear so I gave him a big hug. As we talked about his dad, he recalled that we had stayed in his family’s pop-up camper. I wondered what was in his memory of that time.

I have been thinking a lot about the power of memory lately because the holidays often stimulate it in a special way. It is as if all the remembrances from holidays past are strung together on a long garland that stretches out into infinity. Connecting time and space, I feel like I could step into any holiday scene and be with the people who were dear to me. There is something about the lights, sounds and pleasant cooking aroma that produce the effect of time travel. Simply by closing my eyes and remembering…… the people in my life that I have lost are by my side once again. Their spirits dance around in my heart.

“May loving memories bring you peace and comfort,” is often written in sympathy cards; it is a healing message at the time of a loved one’s passing. After a while the energy of reminiscence becomes the thread that keeps them alive. If we forget to remember, then death becomes permanent. Our busy lives can sometimes prevent us from just stopping and letting a memory sink in. Yet the ability to do so is always within our reach. Why is it even important?

The encounter with my friend’s son at the funeral home moved me deeply. As I grow older, I sometimes fear being forgotten, so he offered me a great gift just by remembering who I was. But, then I began to think, “How does he remember me? Is it a positive memory?” I began to consider how I wanted to be remembered: Is my life reflecting the values that are important to me? Am I creating meaningful experiences with my loved ones to remember?

These questions have motivated me to be present with each person I encounter and live my life fully in each moment. But, they also remind me to honor the lives of the people I have lost by bringing to mind the memories of their essence…to watch their spirits twinkling in the holiday lights, knowing that one day I will join them.

Who will you think about today? What memory is stirring in your heart waiting to be released?

Journal Writing: Yardwork Ritual Captures Mindfulness

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Yesterday’s mild temperatures allowed me to work in the yard and participate in a closing ritual that helped me to stop clinging to summer.  I put away all of the garden tchotchke (pronounced chachki).  They are decorative, sentimental knick-knacks with little purpose, other than to fill my yard with whimsical color.  Demonstrating a desire to honor a season that I thoroughly enjoyed, I worked with the same reverence as when I store my holiday decorations.  I moved about with mindful intention and peacefully removed dirt and grime from items that had been stuck in the ground or hanging from trees.

When the cleanup process was complete, there was still a beautiful begonia plant left to reign as a reminder of the lingering summer that refused to leave my heart.  I wondered how long I would be able to count on the bright orange blossoms to greet me in the morning?  A little internet research revealed that I could bring the plant inside.  It seemed like a fitting tribute to the colorful blooms that had delighted me since June.

Yet as I continued to reflect on my ritual of bringing in the garden tchotchke, I realized that it won’t be long before my backyard is covered with a soft blanket of snow.  I will sit wrapped in a quilt and marvel at the twinkling frozen beauty.  Each season has its own splendor to uncover.  As I immerse myself in it, I often hate to see it depart.  My closing rituals help me to move on, to stop clinging to what was, to respect the period of transition and to appreciate the next precious moment of the season I am in.  So what am I doing to experience Autumn?

Journal Writing Technique

The entry above is an example of a Captured Moment, a form of descriptive writing that freezes a moment in time.  It can be written as an event is happening or as a memory of something that has already happened.  I combined the Captured Moment technique with Reflection, statements that describe the meaning of the experience for me.

When I re-read my journal entry, I was moved by the suggestion to appreciate “the season that I am in.”  In response, I took a walk in the cool fall air, felt the crunching of leaves beneath my feet and viewed the changing colors of the trees along the Erie Canal.  I was truly in the present moment and my heart swelled with the grace of Autumn.