Somewhere in England, taken on June 12, 2016
Stuck on an unmoving train for 2+ hour was no fun, but thankfully I had my trusty journal and pen with me so I could write my boredom away and kill some time (the cover of my journal says “Killing time by writing is not a crime” in French). How would I live without paper and pen?
I always feel more secure with a notebook and pen in my hands. Even at break during work, I would take them out of my purse and write a sentence or two. Somehow writing, however brief, satisfies me in a way nothing else can.
During the night, I hide in my room in the basement to escape from and find relief from all the tension, friction, and chaos in the house. It’s a quiet time to spend with God, read His words and listen to Him closely. With my favourite set-up, a pen and a notebook, I write down today’s meditation and observations.
Writing is one thing I can’t live without. I’ve kept numerous journals and notebooks over the years to jot down thoughts, travel notes, epiphanies, and other random bits and pieces. Today I felt a bit sad as I am leaving Belgium tomorrow, and as if it had a mind of its own, my hand grabbed the pen and started writing down my sentiments. “I can’t believe I’m getting depressed about leaving a place that I used to dislike so much. How did this happen?”
Enjoying a rare, tranquil afternoon spent alone, listening to my favourite music, writing in my journal, and sipping some red wine in my tiny apartment in Bordeaux (I pretend I know wine when I really don’t know anything at all).