Not until we are lost do we begin to understand ourselves. ~Henry David Thoreau

For me, writing in a journal is not just a way of preserving memories, but is also for purging one's self of all the confusion and misperceptions we harbour within. It can be a sort of subtle therapy, gradually bringing understanding and acceptance, while simultaneously providing a hole in which all the fruitless elements of life can be buried with a few small words. Patterns emerge, flashes of gleaming light bring clarity and suddenly, the answers are all there, where they had always been, waiting to be discovered. I am still finding my way, but these journals are the breadcrumbs which will someday lead me home.