Today, I want to take you on a journey—a journey of a journal. It begins with a young girl seeking refuge in the pages of her diary and evolves into a therapeutic tool that has transformed lives across generations and cultures.
A Childhood Escape into Words
As a child growing up in a challenging home environment, I found solace in writing. My diary became my escape, my secret world where I could freely express my emotions through stories and poems. It was my sanctuary, a place where imagination could take flight beyond the confines of my reality.
A Grandmother’s Hidden Story
Years later, in my twenties, I was visiting my grandmother on her Kibbutz one warm summer afternoon. She noticed me writing and, with a knowing smile, said she had something to share. Leading me into her bedroom, she opened the drawer by her bed and retrieved a small, fragile notebook filled with German writing.
“This was my diary when I was 14,” she said. “After I escaped Berlin in 1941 during the Holocaust, I was given this notebook. It stayed with me through those horrible years when my entire family was murdered.”
I was stunned. I knew my grandmother had survived the Holocaust, had been in hiding, had lost everyone—but I never knew she had kept a diary.
“This was the only place I felt human,” she continued. “It became my companion, the only place where I could truly feel.”
Her words imprinted on my soul. It was the first time I understood the power of a journal—that it could be more than just a record of thoughts. It could be a lifeline, a place to hold the unbearable, a tool that could save a soul.
A Journal as a Companion in Trauma Work
Years later, as an Expressive Arts Therapist, I was reintroduced to the journal—this time, in a therapeutic setting. Working in homeless shelters in San Diego with at-risk youth, I witnessed firsthand the devastating impact of trauma. Many of these young individuals had suffered severe abuse and violence. They would come to therapy once a month, sometimes less. I needed to give them something that could support them in between sessions—something they could carry with them wherever they went.
So, I began handing out journals.
Months later, those same youths returned, their journals full. They told me how the journals had become their safe place, how they carried them everywhere, how they helped them cope with the struggles of life on the streets.
That was when I knew: the journal was no longer just an escape or a space for memories. It was a vital therapeutic tool.
A Question That Led to Research
As my work deepened, so did my inquiry: Could a journal evolve into a visual journal rooted in Expressive Arts Therapy principles to build resilience? Could it become a structured tool for therapists? And how effective would it be for clients?
These questions became the foundation of my doctoral research. My study followed a mixed-methods approach, divided into four phases:
Phase 1: Understanding the Journal’s Impact
- Interviews with my grandmother to explore how her diary helped her survive the Holocaust.
- My autoethnographic study, using my journal as a response to my work with trauma survivors.
- Clinical work with veterans, survivors of terror attacks, and individuals experiencing grief and loss.
Common themes emerged:
- Home
- Belonging
- What I need to say vs. what I can’t say
- Identity and dialogue
Through these themes, I integrated Expressive Arts Therapy principles such as decentering and aesthetic response within structured sessions.
Phase 2: Clinical Integration and Teaching the Method
Working in a clinical setting, I introduced the journal to therapists across disciplines. Psychologists, social workers, and expressive arts therapists observed its effectiveness and wanted to learn how to integrate it into their own work.
Through trial and error, pilot courses, and continuous refinement, I developed a structured curriculum. Over 21 months, I taught 12 courses and certified 155 therapists in this method. The research showed therapists found the journal invaluable, but many requested more guidance in applying Expressive Arts Therapy principles.
This led to the next phase: creating a structured model.
Phase 3: Developing the Seven-Step Resilience Model
Through rigorous research and practical application, I structured my findings into a seven-step model guided by Expressive Arts Therapy principles, Jungian psychology, Winnicott’s theories on containment, and Antonovsky’s sense of coherence framework.
Each step became an essential part of the process:
- Arrive – Grounding, sensory awareness, and nervous system regulation.
- Contain – Creating safety through journaling as a container, inspired by Winnicott’s holding theory.
- Explore – Working with life narratives and existential themes.
- Recognize – Identifying roles and archetypes to enhance self-awareness.
- Identify – Discovering strengths and resources for empowerment.
- Integrate – Achieving holistic balance through intermodal artistic work.
- Embody – Engaging in full-body experiential expression for transformation.
Each step was designed not only as a clinical tool but as a therapeutic journey that clients could take at their own pace, with or without a therapist.
Phase 4: Implementing and Expanding the Method
With the manual and structured model in place, my work reached new levels. Therapists worldwide began implementing the method, and my research findings confirmed what my grandmother knew all along:
A journal is not just a book. It is a witness. A mirror. A companion. A healer.
A Story That Continues to Unfold
The journey of a journal started as a personal refuge, became a tool for survival, transformed into a clinical method, and is now a global movement in therapeutic practice.
My hope is that this work continues to inspire and heal, just as it did for my grandmother, for the at-risk youth, for combat veterans, for trauma survivors, and for myself.
Because at the end of the day, we all need a place to hold our stories. And sometimes, that place is found within the pages of a journal.
