On Journaling
One of many of my journals, and my trusty LAMY fountain pen.
If I can credit anything with saving my sanity over the last five years, it’s been journaling.
I have a daily practice of writing a few pages longhand every morning with my first cup of tea. Sometimes I write just a few lines and occasionally when I have time and the mood strikes, I write almost a dozen pages. I write whatever I want, about everything and nothing, whatever I have time or energy or the mood for.
If you’d ever wondered why someone would possibly want to write in a journal every day, even though they aren’t a “writer” per se, not pursuing publishing or a memoir or anything of note… then read on. Here’s why.
This might sound familiar:
I kept diaries as a kid occasionally and blogs in my twenties, but only intermittently… I also started several journals in my thirties with the intention of writing every day, but I abandoned them in frustration a few pages and/or days in. I would miss a day, or even spell something wrong, and it would all be ruined. Or, I would get paralyzed with what to write or how to phrase things. I would worry that someday someone would read them and I would be embarrassed.
All that changed in 2019 when I successfully completed The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron, a book containing a 12-week course on journaling and creativity. I had tried to start it (alone) in 2015— but as before I got three days in and got overwhelmed. But in the fall of 2019 I decided I needed to try again, but this time with accountability.
I decided to facilitate the group myself, and I posted my offer in a local “Buy Nothing” Facebook group, invited some people, found a venue, set a time, and then me and several other women set out on this journey together.
The Artist’s Way has 4 premises:
1) Morning Pages: That you write 3 pages longhand, stream-of-consciousness, every morning. Keep the pen moving, not worrying about neatness or spelling or grammar. Just get it out. Ignore mistakes and just keep going. Writing first thing in the morning before you’re really fully awake yet helps, because at that point in theory your inner critic isn’t really awake yet either. Oh, and, you’re not really supposed to go back and re-read your pages. Not for a several weeks, anyway.
2) Artist Dates: That you take yourself (Your Artist) on a solo date once a week somewhere fun or frivolous or inspiring, and do something just for yourself. Those were fun, and I’d like to do more.
3) Readings: That you read one chapter of the book per week for 12 weeks, and answer a few questions at the end of each.
4) Creative Cluster Meetings: That you meet with your group of like-minded creatives every week to discuss each chapter, your progress and your thoughts.
It was going to be much easier to finally follow through if I had a group of people to hold me accountable.
So, I bought myself a bunch of brightly coloured pens and some washi tape and I began.
12 weeks is long enough to build a habit, and I was getting more and more hooked on writing as the weeks went on. Slowly the pages in my notebook filled and I really began to see progress! Besides the stack of pages that were filling up, I began to notice that my small act of writing every day actually contributed to some big rewarding changes:
I was being nicer to myself, actually re-wiring my brain. One promise I made to myself was that I was not going to be hard on myself when I wrote. I would reframe negative thoughts in a more positive or at least neutral tone. But no self-abuse. My inner critic had been so very harsh with me prior to this, and I was able to neutralize it and take the sting out of some of my thoughts. It was only by externalizing my thoughts that I could catch how awful to myself I was being!
I began to let go of perfectionism in other areas of my life as well, and once I stopped worrying so much, it freed up a lot of bandwidth for me to focus on other things.
I dropped the word “should” from my vocabulary (mostly) and substituted “I want to” and it changed a lot for me!
I started getting things done that I had been putting off for a long time. One thing Julia talks about is how you can’t easily complain about something day in and day out without getting annoyed enough to do something about it!
I started remembering ideas that I had and following through on some of them, because I had written them down. I have ADHD, so I am a fast thinker with a busy brain, and if I don’t write something down it’s often gone forever, so this can help cement them and help me remember them, not only so I can look back and find them again, but because writing slows down my thoughts to the speed of my pen, and I have time to dwell on them. I’m also using the small muscles in my hand and watching myself write while reading what I wrote… all using extra brain cells to connect and code for that idea.
Getting everything out of my head and brain-dumping onto paper allowed me to clear my head and get on with my day… it allowed me time to write my daily to-do list more easily. In fact a to do list is never far from my journal… sometimes I use a blank one as a bookmark. Sometimes I write in the evening as well just to clear my head and I end up falling asleep sooner!
After the 12 weeks were up, I just kept on going. The benefits just kept coming as well.
It provides a comforting routine that I find anchoring in my day.
As we know by now I like to externalize my thoughts (as here on the blog) and sometimes there’s nobody around to listen, indeed sometimes there’s nobody who needs to listen, and I can still process what I need to in my journal in a safe and judgement-free zone.
I have been able to process through my feelings and try to make sense of events, provide context and and allowed me to see things from others perspectives and release judgement I may have had for myself and others.
I have been able to practice gratitude, look for little sparks of joy, and focus on the positive when that is needed.
I can experience flow on a daily basis, even when I don’t feel like painting or drawing, I always have writing. And even if I am writing the most inane self-indulgent fluff, it is still a creative act.
I have been able to reflect on some of my accomplishments and actually give myself credit for them. Kind of like how writing your resume makes you realize that you’re kind of a badass, actually, even if you don’t feel like it 99% of the time.
I’ve been able to analyze some “failures” and figure out what I could have done better. Kindly, of course. I’ve also been able to strategize and pivot in my business as needed, because goodness knows there are failures there, and I’m sure there will be more!
I use my journal as an executive functioning hack… When I have a task or a goal that is too overwhelming I can physically take it apart into smaller more manageable pieces and start to see which pieces are more important or doable in the moment.
I can write healing letters that will never be sent, so I can say my piece, obtain closure and forgiveness for people that are no longer in my life, or maybe who never really were. Or, maybe I need a practice run at a difficult conversation. It helps me get my thoughts together as if it were a rehearsal.
I have come to some truly profound realizations, gained better awareness of my needs, helped myself set boundaries, gained clarity, and gave me a better sense of self, and improved my self-confidence.
I’m able to paraphrase and better learn things that I’ve picked up in various places, lessons I have learned from books or videos or conversations. I’m able to record insights from counselling, and sometimes take snippets to share with my therapist as needed.
I have been through some rough experiences and grief of all kinds—journalling has helped me cope.
It helps me vent, and parse out confusing situations, weigh pros and cons, decide how I feel about things and make choices.
It allows me to to witness patterns in my behaviour that have been unhelpful or holding me back, and to that end they helped me to give up sugar, alcohol, and realize that I needed to pursue an ADHD diagnosis. All that has been life-changing.
Now that I sometimes take medication for my ADHD when I need to, writing first thing in the morning when my brain is still “bouncy” allows me to brainstorm lots of creative ideas that I would otherwise lose.
This practice has benefitted me in so many ways, probably a few that I’m not able to list here. I would not be the current version of myself now without this practice. I have grown so much.
It’s interesting to look back and see just how far I have come. In the last five years I have filled more than a dozen journals… I’ve lost count. Just for writing for maybe a half an hour more mornings than not. I feel proud of myself for that. Sometimes I miss a day or a few days, and I feel it when I can’t, like I’m itching to get back to it.
I do allow myself a fountain pen and lovely journals with good paper and I don’t skimp on that. I could use a Bic pen and a dollar store composition book, and that works for some folks, but for me nice materials make me really want to use them. It’s self-indulgent and I don’t care. It’s one place I let myself get away with it. It feels kind of radical to claim the right to use a pretty pen and pretty book for my own purposes, any way I want.
Sometimes I flip my journals open to read them and I find some real gems. More often than not though it would be dull and uninteresting to anyone but me. I can write whatever I want because no one will ever read them, they’ll never be published, save for what I self-publish here on the blog.
For me this practice borders on spiritual… it is about process and personal growth and transformation; it’s NOT about keeping a record of events for posterity. It’s not creative fiction. I write on the blog for you here, for sure, but in my journal itself I’m not writing for anyone but me.
I know this will be a lifelong process going forwards, and the longer I live the bigger the pile of journals are going to be. And with no kids or grandkids to pass them down to, I’m going to need to be creative about how I deal with that.
In fact, every five or ten years I’d like to destroy them in some kind of sculpture or installation or performance piece based on release and catharsis. I would really like to recycle and repurpose them, burn them, compost them, destroy them and bring the pieces through some profound transformation and rebirth.
And then I’ll just keep writing.
Are you a journaler? What has a journaling practice done for you?
