I got up around 1am, I had been sleeping for 3 hours. I had fallen asleep in my chair, arms stretched out on my desk. I had been writing in my journal, so how did that happen?

I write quite a bit, on my plans and some pursuits; especially when I decide to be serious about the things I want to get done.

I don’t do daily to do’s, I like my days fluid. I always do yearly and periodic reviews; those are  necessary when I need to steer my ship back on track.

But this time, I was not writing my goals, it was on something different. I had a lot of my mind. And when I have a lot of things, unresolved in my mind, I feel it in my gut, all day, and I had for a while.

The night before, I had promised myself I would sit down and have an honest conversation with myself, unravel the unresolved maze of fuzziness in my brain…do something that would require me to write down all the things that were bothering me, and that night, I was ready, and I sat down with myself.

I say honest conversation because I know I can lie to the whole world, but I cannot lie to myself. If I do, that niggling gut feeling will remain and to be honest, it had become a stone I was tired of carrying.

We say we don’t care about certain things; what people think of us, strained relationships, unmet expectations, disappointments, bad decisions, betrayals, dashed hopes, the list goes on. Some  things we truly don’t care about, but some things we deny or fail to admit, bother us in small and sometimes big ways.

Some of these things are embarrassing to admit, or shouldn’t be an issue in an ideal world, but they are. And when we are not honest about their impact, we don’t address them as real issues. We leave them to linger and fester, causing unpleasant manifestations in other areas of our lives.

On that night I had turned to a blank page of my journal and began to write down my troubles…one by one, small, medium and large. Obvious and not so obvious. Trivial and big deal. Reminding myself to be honest. And very honestly, I added to the list, describing the issues and the accompanying negative feeling, pouring my heart out, writing away under the dim lighting, into the night.

And then… I must have slept off. Because the only thing I remember was waking up in my chair.

Somehow, the many burdens must have lifted and I felt light. Enough for me to fall asleep and fall asleep soundly. I left my chair and made my way upstairs to my bedroom. No break in sleep transmission, I continued my sweet sleep.

The next morning, I woke up late, light feeling and refreshed. I said to my husband, ‘I can’t remember the last time I slept so well.’

For once in a long time, every brain activity was quiet. All I felt was peace and tranquil quiet. All the issues were still there, but a part of it was resolved. Maybe it was identifying each issue or allowing myself feel.

Something lifted, maybe even shifted.

There is something really profound about writing things down…

Your thoughts?