A simple guide to consistent journaling

(or how I do it, anyway)

If you’re an avid reader, chances are you either have a journaling habit or you’ve been trying to make journaling a consistent practice for years.

I’ve been both of these people: as a kid, I wrote in my diary religiously (from detailed school lunch descriptions to angry letters my mom would never read, I had range), and then I abruptly stopped writing in my late teenage years. After finishing school, I tried all the tricks in the book to get back into it - buying pretty notebooks, Google Doc-ing, finding a specific time of day to write, using prompts, and adding doodles and collages into the mix. Nothing worked.

I wanted to journal again because I could see its benefits every time I opened my childhood diary and was faced with a time capsule. When something special happened in my life, I mourned the memories I knew I’d eventually forget. Even if, in the future, I was able to vaguely remember meeting someone or getting an important job, even if I could recall the general traces of a memory, I would never be able to look back on it as the person I’d been in that specific moment. We always look back in time through the lens of the people we are now, or at least I do.

As someone who falls asleep running increasingly stressful hypothetical scenarios in their mind until they are more awake than ever now that their heart rate is up so they might as well watch another episode of House, I missed the way journaling allowed me to pile my thoughts into a soft little bundle and place them somewhere external to my brain. It’s a relief to put your feelings to paper because, not unlike writing down your meetings in a planner, you can then find some respite from the burden of carrying them around all by yourself.

And so here I was, in my mid-twenties, trying once again to get back into journaling. Except this time, I managed to do it successfully.

My completed journals from last year (and the new one on top!)

About a year ago, I started reading The Artist’s Way. Now, before my frequent readers roll their eyes and close this tab, I know this substack is lowkey becoming an ad for the book; I don’t do it intentionally, but I do have to credit the book for the impact it’s had on my life, and in this instance, it is entirely thanks to The Artist’s Way that I got back on the journaling horse.

While I do highly recommend that you read the book to understand the role that journaling plays in the whole process of the course, you don’t need to read it in order to get back into journaling; I’ll tell you what I’ve learned and how I have personally brought this habit back into my life.

These are my five “journaling rules”, though there is only one that really matters. The one that actually changed the way I perceived journaling and got me right back into it.

---

Golden rule: no one can ever read your journal

I started journaling consistently as soon as I accepted that it wouldn’t be a performative act, and the only way it isn’t a performative act is if you understand that no one can ever read what you’re writing. I know most of us don’t journal thinking that someone will read it later, but I do believe that, somewhere in the back of our minds, we are:

1. Afraid someone will find it and read it without permission;

2. Thinking that our future selves will one day read the journal and think “sheesh, this is some shitty writing right here”;

3. Afraid we might just become important enough for our journals to be published by money-hungry relatives and widely read decades later.

I know none of these are impossible scenarios, but the one thing that got me back into journaling was to assume that none of them will ever happen. As a consequence, I went from trying to say Interesting, Smart Things to embracing the ogre in my brain who says stupid stuff and has terrible handwriting and considers whining an Olympic sport.

My journal isn’t an empty canvas, waiting to be adorned for the world to see. It isn’t an Instagram feed. My journal is a disgusting trash can where I am allowed to be the worst, most vulnerable version of myself. There are no filters. My partner won’t read it, my friends and family won’t read it, and even I prefer not to read past entries most of the time. Sure, there might be some insightful stuff in there, but for the most part, it’s just a place for me to brain dump.

---

Write in the mornings

I know what you’re most likely thinking. But nights are so much better? Nights are relaxing and vibey, I can journal in bed with a nice cup of tea… Well, I believe that writing every morning, if your routine allows it, tends to be more impactful. Not to mention the number of times we get to bed too tired to even pick up a pen, let alone think about what to write.

In the mornings, you can control whether you wake up ten minutes earlier to journal and more importantly, you get a chance to fill in those pages and start the day with a clear mind. It’s a little like meditating: you put your thoughts elsewhere and you open up space for what matters.

Another important reason to write in the mornings is that your mind will be less polluted by media noise. If you can write those pages first thing, before you pick up your phone or a book, that would be ideal.

---

The one-page minimum

The Artist’s Way recommends writing at least three pages every day; personally, I write a minimum of one full page. Most of the time, I end up writing three or more, but sometimes my mind is elsewhere or I don’t have a lot to say. However, that one daily page is non-negotiable.

I would recommend you to write a minimum of one full page as well. No half pages! No double spacing either!

---

Do the Bart Simpson

If you don’t know what to write, fill in your pages with “I don’t know what to write”, Bart Simpson style. I promise you’ll get bored of it in no time and come up with something else to say.

There are no rules to this and you can use prompts, you can write about a movie you watched or yesterday’s meeting. However, try not to use your journal for “productive” writing (i.e. drafting a post or a book chapter, anything that will be read by others in the future).

It’s not about what you write, and even less about how you write it. It’s about giving your brain a chance to vomit over empty pages every morning.

---

Don’t skip it!

I guess this is the silver rule: do not skip days. Life happens and I’ve certainly skipped a couple of days this past year, but build a habit around journaling every day, ideally at the same time of day, including weekends. Turn it into a nice little morning routine, with a cup of your favorite beverage and a little playlist. When you travel, take your journal with you.

If you make a conscious decision to do this every day and stay consistent for a couple of weeks, it will become second nature sooner or later.

---

Last minute tips:

• If you struggle with the idea of “ruining” pretty notebooks, buy something light and malleable and ugly (you probably have one of these lying around already).

• But choose a pen you really like. I always write with a pink pen because it makes my inner child happy.

---