I've been keeping a journal ever since I was first diagnosed with breast cancer. I first wrote by hand in a pink fabric-covered book, sprinkled with multi-colored polka dots. It looked feminine -- which is why I bought it -- and it's vibrance made me feel inspired, motivated, eager to write down the dreaded details of the beginning of my journey. Then I stopped writing in this book and began typing my words in an on-line journal -- a blog. My husband designed the presentation of it, with a pink banner that serves as the backdrop for the title -- my Breast Cancer blog. My first entry was completed on December 21, 2004 and I am still chronicling my journey here. I am also writing for this site -- the Cancer Blog -- and I write whenever and wherever else I can record my words. I do it because it helps me process information in a quiet, calming, introspective way. It soothes me, helps me work through panic and anxiety, helps me heal, and helps me chart my progress. When I look back at what I've written, I realize how far I've come -- or haven't come -- and it helps me move forward. I recommend journaling for everyone, and I recommend these seven simple suggestions for getting started.


Style. Your journal can be all-emcompassing and can cover all aspects of life. Or it can be specific. My journal began because of cancer and mostly focuses on this topic. But sometimes I write about parenting and other side issues too. You might keep a food journal, an exercise journal, a memory journal, or a dream journal. Just choose your style and proceed.

Format. Any format will do -- writing in a book made specifically for journaling, jotting down thoughts and notes on loose paper, typing an on-going collection of entries, even recording your voice will do just fine. Whatever the mode of expression, the point is creating a record of what is going on in your mind.

Rules. There are no rules. You can write every day or you can write once a month. You can use words or drawings or charts and graphs to depict your inner thoughts. Regardless of how you journal -- or how often you journal -- you will accomplish the goal of getting closer to the real you.

Censoring. Make sure you record your exact emotions -- no matter how scary or frightening. Don't shelter your thoughts. Don't feel embarrased. And don't worry about spelling and grammar and punctuation. Journaling should not be purposely crafted or manipulated -- it should be real. No one is grading or evaluating or judging you.

Privacy. If you are worried that someone will one day read your memoirs, consider a safe hiding place for your journal. Carry it with you at all times. Type an entry and e-mail it to yourself. Or write an entry and then dispose of it. It's the act of writing that is beneficial -- if you are okay with not having a permanent record of what you wrote, then this might be the best route. There are no rules for journaling, after all.

Sharing. You might choose to share your journal -- l like I do. My blog is available to anyone who finds me on the internet. I like it this way because I want people to gain insight from my journey, to learn from my experience. Keeping my words private helps me -- but it does no good to anyone else who might benefit from where I've already traveled. In addition to on-line sharing, journals can be saved and passed on to family members. My family has several journals that my grandmother kept before she passed away. Looking back at them allows us to keep her memory fresh in our minds. It reminds us of her unique handwriting. And we learn a lot from her notes too -- she wrote her own life story, for example, that has been copied and distributed to her children and grandchildren. Her legacy lives on through her written words.

Reflecting. Permanent journaling is valuable for the purpose of reflection. I often look back on what I've written and mostly feel accomplished for making progress both physically and emotionally. On February 23, 2005, in the midst of chemotherapy, I wrote on my blog:

I am still making it through each day without too much difficulty. I am still positive and hopeful. But while I once felt completely motivated and somewhat unphased by breast cancer and its implications, I now feel sickened and a bit angry. I am sure I will someday turn towards acceptance and will one day think of this journey as a life-changing gift. But for now, I just feel sick.

Reading this -- and realizing that I have accepted this disease and that I do think of it as a life-changing gift reminds me that I have evolved and changed and emerged from a tunnel of darkness.

Journaling has been critical in my recovery and healing. And I intend to continue writing and sharing. For me. For others. Because my life -- for now -- is an open book.