That's a quote on the front of one of my 'yet to be written in' journals. I have been journaling for years, since about middle school actually, and now I am in my late twenties. I have always loved journaling and being able to put my thoughts on paper. I have always been confident about the fact that my journaling has increased my ability to be in touch with my thoughts, to know how to formulate those thoughts into words. Lately, I have realized that my ability to put them into words, is still limited to the written word and not the spoken word. At first when I realized that I thought it was unfortunate, because the written word does nothing if it cannot be spoken to an audience and understood. But that is wrong, speech is just one way that the world conveys thoughts and ideas, and indeed many thoughts and ideas have been passed down through the written word. With the written word, there can be so many meanings depending on how the person reads it, the mind frame they are in when they read it, and just how they think of the world in general.
In the past I have always just written to write, for myself, and always knowing that no one else would ever read the words of my journal, until of course I died. I was always okay with the thought of other people reading my thoughts so long as it was after I passed away. I imagined others searching through an old attic and being surprised to find an old box of journals and then them getting excited to be able to delve into the unedited thoughts of another human being.
There is something about reading another's thoughts that has always been alluring to me. Perhaps that's why I always have enjoyed reading autobiographies. They are so much more real and bare than a biography. What one thinks of oneself is far more powerful than what others think of them. And I think that is a life lesson that so many parents and teachers try to teach the future generations, to not care about what other people think of them.
My idea in starting off this entry was to explain how I have always kept my thoughts secret, hidden in a journal of pen and paper. At first I thought I would write in a journal online but with a lock on it, password protected like everything else in our world these days. So I did start it out that way, hidden, but then I realized that my journals hold my thoughts, and my thoughts are valuable and worthy to be shared. My fear of sharing those thoughts will not accomplish anything. Not that I am hoping to accomplish anything by sharing them, but I do believe that each human being brings a unique set of values and ideas to the earth and if we don't share them, they might be wasted. My journals might never be found in an attic, or maybe they will be found, but by someone who does not care to read my thoughts, and then they might be lost forever, which would be a shame.
Wealth; noun: plentiful supplies of a particular resource
(Wealth does not necessarily imply money, it merely implies resources. Thoughts are a valuable resource.)