Spending the morning writing on my physical journal and reflecting on what it means to practice memory-keeping. Recently, I’ve been lamenting on the fact that we can only recall a tiny fraction of our lives. Most of the memories I can easily retrieve at this point are the ones tied to strong emotions, pleasant or otherwise.

I remember reading somewhere that strong emotions cause the brain to commit an incident to memory, so I’m not surprised this is the case. Still, what a tragedy. Thousands and thousands of days, of moments we ought to remember, lost forever in oblivion.

I regret not writing in journals more when I was younger, and not keeping what journals I did have. One reason I couldn’t keep a journal was because my mother was always going through my stuff, so there was no semblance of privacy at home. Even when I was in college living in dorms, I still had to take my stuff home every sembreak, which meant my mom had time to rummage through my things when I wasn’t home and read what I wrote in my diary. I resent that about her.

Growing up, I became conscious of what I was writing in my journals. I censored myself sometimes, fearing somebody might open my journal and read it. These days, because my husband isn’t the type of person to invade someone’s privacy, I am able to write with less anxiety and more freedom, without having to hide my journals in drawers, fearing someone will look for them, find them, and read them.

I’ve been journaling almost every day since last month. It helps that I’m always carrying my Traveler’s Notebooks with me these days. The Delfonics pouch I bought turned out to be a good decision too, because now my daily journaling supplies are in one place. In the past, it has happened that I had a notebook with me, but not a pen, and vice-versa.

Let’s see how long I can keep this up. I’m positive I can stick with it because this is the kind of person I’ve become: someone who struggles to remember, and thus works harder than the average person to record her thoughts, emotions, and memories. After all, isn’t it easier to revisit memories when they’re in a tangible space?