Charting for therapy

In the swirling tides of modern life—constant news alerts, the roar of social media, and the chatter of opinions—it’s easy to lose touch with my own thoughts. Journaling has become my little island, a place where I can drop anchor and take stock of what’s happening in my soul. It’s where I sort out life’s questions, reflect on blessings, and chart my course forward—all without the distraction of outside noise.

For a Catholic Parrothead like me, it’s a practice that combines the best of both worlds: the peace of slowing down and the joy of connecting with faith in a personal, meaningful way.

When I sit down with my journal, I don’t always know where I’m headed. My ideas tend to flow like a Jimmy Buffett song—free and wandering, with plenty of unexpected connections. I’ll start with a central thought, and from there, it branches out like spokes on a wheel. One idea drifts into another, much like hopping between islands, and before long, I’ve uncovered insights I didn’t see coming. This approach feels natural to me—loose, creative, and open-ended.

But sometimes, I need more than a lazy drift. That’s when I take inspiration from St. Thomas Aquinas, the master of theological precision. His approach was like navigating by the stars: focused, deliberate, and unshakable. He’d present a question, map out objections, and work step by step toward a logical conclusion. Where my mind-mapping style is about exploring, St. Thomas’s triangulated method is about defining and grounding my thoughts.

Both methods have their place, and I’ve found value in each. When I’m journaling to reflect on gratitude or to process big, open-ended questions, my free-flowing approach feels right. It allows my thoughts to take me where they will, much like letting the tide carry you.

But when I’m wrestling with a specific question—like how to handle a challenge at work or discern what God’s calling me to do—St. Thomas’s structured approach brings clarity. His method challenges me to dig deeper, to confront objections, and to work toward answers that hold water.

For me, journaling isn’t just about thinking—it’s about faith. It’s where I pray, reflect on Scripture, or just talk to God about the ups and downs of my day. It’s where I work through questions like, Am I really trusting God with this? or How can I better reflect Christ’s love in my life? Whether I’m mind-mapping my way through gratitude or following St. Thomas’s lead to wrestle with doubts, my journal has become a spiritual compass.

As a Catholic Parrothead, I find that this balance of exploration and grounding mirrors my faith. On one hand, I’m called to embrace the beauty and mystery of God’s creation—finding joy in life’s little blessings, much like savoring the perfect margarita at sunset. On the other, I’m challenged to seek truth, to question, and to grow deeper in my understanding of God’s will.

If you’ve never journaled before, I’d encourage you to give it a shot. You don’t need to overthink it. Start with a simple question like, What’s on my heart today? Let your thoughts wander, or take a more structured approach if that feels right. There’s no wrong way to journal—it’s your island, your refuge.

For me, journaling is more than just a habit. It’s a place where I drop anchor and reconnect with my soul. It’s where I can explore life’s big questions, process emotions, and hear the still, small voice of God in the quiet. Whether I’m mind-mapping like a Parrothead or triangulating like St. Thomas, journaling helps me live more intentionally, think more deeply, and grow in faith.

So, grab a pen, pour yourself a coffee (or a little boat drink), and open up a notebook. Whether you’re exploring life’s tides or following the steady hand of faith, your journal is there to guide you. Who knows? You might just discover your own island sanctuary along the way.