November 1st: it wasn’t even on my radar this year. Probably due to the presidential election absorbing so much focus.
But once the results were in — enough of them to know the presidency was a lost cause, anyway — I started logging myself out of my most-used social media accounts. As a result, I am now logged into my relatively-neglected instagram account for Pleasure Writing @pmstarr. That’s when I noticed all of the days-old posts for fountain pen day.
In 2023 and in preparation for 2024, I dipped my toes into more of the inky goodness that constitutes the fountain pen “community” online, following more hobbyists, planners, ink-lovers, artists, and journalers. I stepped up my game with my first formal end-of-year review led by inkjournal’s year end review journaling challenge. Even though I’ve been writing in a journal or diary regularly since I was a child, I’ve never been good at doing timely wrap-ups or toplists, so that was a first. A first *attempt*, anyway.
A year later, I feel like I haven’t made much progress. That time — four seasons, a whole year — has slipped away again without having made the most of it.
For once, though, I don’t feel like that means I should give up. Sitting here writing this is a perfect reminder and reinforcement that journaling, and specifically doing a yearly review, is valuable and even *more* necessary when I feel like I’ve lost time without accomplishing all of the things that are (or were) important to me. It’s helpful to look back and pull up memories and lessons of unplanned wins, growth, and blessings. To look back and fill in what might otherwise seem like an empty chasm of regret and missed opportunities: to fill it in with as many planted seeds and moments of beauty to create a bigger picture of life lived.
I am grateful that switching my insta account to a bunch of fountain pen and writing-related accounts immediately brought me more of a feeling of “community” or kindred connection than I anticipated, too, with regards to the election and its outcomes. I find myself buoyed by people going to timeless sources of wisdom, history, and inspiration for strength and focus going forward. People who turn to books, and people who put pen to paper instead of so much mouth to phone and so much scream to chaos.
Even if I am quite lucky in terms of longevity, it is likely that close to half of my life is over. I can’t count on half of it being left to live. Even if I do get fifty-one more years, I can’t count on the quality of those or how many I’ll have the capacity to live with vim and vigor, or freedom and abundance, or any of the fortunate blessings and privileges I’ve enjoyed and/or taken for granted since I was born in 1973.
What I do know is that writing helps. Journaling — keeping logs, putting thoughts to paper, making lists and plans even if they can never possibly all get done — is better than letting everything slip by and/or letting wild thoughts run rampant inside the confines of my skull or just imagining stuff happen in my head without taking that first step of action of transfering the vision onto a concrete tangible piece of paper.
This year I know that I need more time to do a thorough retrospective to wrap up the year. I am more realistic about how long it takes me to do things. And I will keep trying, and making a little progress every day, every year.
I may not “finish” much. I might not ever get a whole year-end-review polished and ready to shelve, even if I live to be a hundred. But I will keep working to at least confidently give myself and others more grace whenever it is time to look back on what we’ve done that has been worthwhile, and what has been beautiful that we can count ourselves so lucky to have experienced.
