This is not the first time I have tried to write a daily journal. My bookshelves are littered with lovely notebooks dutifully written for the first week or so. The entries start out with lengthy tomes and lofty topics. Then they start to space out. One a month... one every 6 months.. one after 6 years. One of my favorites was a dream journal I kept around the time I was pregnant with Naomi. Even now in reading that journal I can remember the dreams I wrote about and smile at my subconsciousness' sense of humor.
It's funny that I can remember those particular dreams because, as a rule, I just can not remember my dreams any more; even when I go to bed and send the message to myself that I want to. Something happens the minute I get jolted awake by the alarm and I can feel them leaving my brain like sand through my fingers. I'm hoping that I can direct Chatter mind away from endless commentary and give her a place to direct her energy so that she can be my allie and help to keep them present for me.
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