Morning Pages

Thanks to, I used to have an online journal that I have used as a personal spiritual diary. I’ve recently gotten back into the practice, and wanted to see how long it had been. The answer reads like a chronicle of my mom’s last months:


November: 20 entries. My parents came to visit after Thanksgiving. Mom danced the night away.


December: 1 entry. On the subject of “waiting.”


January: 0 entries.


February: 1 entry. When Mom decided to call hospice.


March: 2 entries. One, the day before she died, is completely empty, as if I wanted to write something but had nothing to say. The second occurs about two weeks later, in gratitude for my kids.


April: 5 entries. Most of them toward the end of the month. Normal, spiritual meanderings.


May: 22 entries. Getting back on track.


I am so grateful for my calendar and for its gaps! The absence is enlightening. The silence, deafening.


Just thought I’d share that, in case it means something to any of you out there. What you don’t write may be as important as what you do.