Today I read through an old journal and relived some memories.

I relived the stress before high school exams, the joy of quartet rehearsals, the aroma of mum’s cooking, the burn of summer days, the mundanity of viola practice, the joy of late night runs.

Without the words I scribbled down in the moment, these memories would have been lost forever.

Note taking is the closest thing we have to time travel, it is a note affirming our place in the word, a rebellion against the entropy of memory.

It is moments that remind me of the power of the written word.