These 5 Lessons Could Save Your Life

August 2020 made it 10 years since I started keeping a journal. Better late than never! 😁 The frequency has varied over time. There were periods I went on writing streaks and times I went silent for weeks. What hasn’t changed, however, is my resolve to document my learning and to leave footprints for those coming after me. Today, sifting through those pages still gives me a rush of nostalgia. They have given me a rare view into the past. I have found enduring truths about myself and patterns that have helped me improve. If the secret to the future is hidden in the past, then journaling has afforded me loads of secrets I never would have otherwise discovered. For brevity’s sake, here are 5 lessons 10 years of journaling has taught me. Ready? 𝟏. 𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝟏𝟎 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬. 𝐃𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐮𝐩 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠. Reading my journal entries from years back, I often recall the way I fussed over stuff that holds no water today. It’s amazing how issues that racked up mental space back then are now figments of memory. Today, I laugh at myself for allowing those things to bother me in the first place. 𝟐. 𝐌𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐥, 𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞; 𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐯𝐨𝐥𝐯𝐞. No matter how much you learn today—from books, courses, observation or even wise counsel—some lessons are reserved for Uncle Time to teach you. For the most part, you’ll gather head knowledge. But time and experience allow those lessons to sip from your head down to your heart— where they matter. As wise as I sounded at the time, going over my old journal entries today makes me realise how naive I was back then. Don’t get it twisted. My perspectives weren’t too far from the truth. They were simply basic and narrow. 10 years from now, today’s perspectives would likely seem that way too. 𝟑. 𝐌𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥—𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐌𝐨𝐬𝐭 This is perhaps the hardest to take in. But I’ll share it anyway. Not all your relationships are meant to last forever. No doubt, the people I met in the last ten years have shaped my life in no small way. It’s sad to know that some of my closest friends are now strangers today. Years later, we’re not even on a first-name basis. But that’s okay. I used to think I failed as a friend until I knew better. Relationships serve a purpose. And when they’ve run their course, like a radio cassette, it’s healthy and normal to move on. This is not a license to be careless with your relationships. It’s my little way of saving you the stress of continuing an episode that has ended for good. 𝟒. 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬. 𝐔𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭. This is arguably the most difficult to decipher. Most people try hard to make the past work when, in fact, that season has wrapped up for good. The ability to know what you should be doing per season is a priceless gift. In my opinion, this doesn’t come by information but by revelation. When you know what to do, how to do it and when to do it, you must also keep your antennas up to know when seasons change and act accordingly. 𝟓. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐢𝐬 non-linear. There’s no cast-iron rule to finding your purpose. What we’re privy to are indicators—your passion, talent, interests, dislikes, pain and so on. Growing up, I always wanted to be an astronaut; then a pilot; then a sailor. 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐭𝐨 𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐄. I love to explore. To travel. To discover. Growing up, my father whooped me many times for dismantling our electronics just to see where the blinking lights come from. 😂 So as a kid, when asked, “𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐝𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐰 𝐮𝐩?” I named professions that mirrored my desire to explore. As a writer, exploring is what I do today. But it wasn’t always clear from the start. Even today, this is not my final destination. I’ll be kidding to claim that I’ve found my 𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐫𝐢-𝐋𝐚. It’s a journey! Remember point number 4? Your purpose is split into seasonal mandates. Never define your entire existence by your current activity. Or else when seasons change, you’ll be like a 21st-century company manufacturing fax machines. 𝐁𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐢𝐝! Of these five lessons, which one hits home for you? Let me know in the comments.