How do I start writing letters to my family if I've never journaled before?

Begin small. Rabia didn't write treatises—she wrote what moved her heart in the moment. Pick one person. Write to them as if they're sitting across from you right now, not as some formal archive. What would you tell them if you knew this was your last conversation? Start there. Maybe it's a single page about why you're proud of them, or a memory that shaped you both. Don't wait for perfect conditions or eloquent words. The most meaningful letters are the ones that sound like *you*—your rhythm, your humor, even your hesitations. Keep them in a drawer if that feels safer at first. The point isn't publication; it's presence. Once you've written one letter, the next becomes easier. You'll find your rhythm. And years from now, your family won't remember if your handwriting was neat—they'll remember that you took the time to tell them what they meant to you, in your own voice, when you were still here.