Call to mind a journaling expert and how you imagine her personal process. Do you envision her writing morning pages for years without missing a single day? Or nightly capturing her reflections in a handbound notebook with a cup of tea by her side? Is she filling tomes (or electronic files) with her daily musings, while imparting her intricate process for eager students to replicate in their own lives?
I am a journaling expert. I’ve even published a guided journal that’s sold on six continents (as if that is the measure of expertise!). But that image above? That’s not me at all. By many standards, I’m a bad journal writer and journaling teacher.
And I want you to be a bad journaler, too.
Let me step back and say that I don’t actually buy into the notion that there is any such thing as a bad journal writer. Sure, my longest streak of morning pages was two semesters in graduate school. And I don’t journal every day, nor are my entries always long, profound, or inspired.
That doesn’t make me a bad journal writer. It makes me human.
Some days, I feel like creating an elaborate, pampered ritual of hot black coffee, a cozy place to put my feet up, my favorite pen and notebook, and a long span of time to leisurely write. It feels decadent, and I’ve yet to regret the experience.
Many times, however, I don’t have the time, energy, or stamina for a lengthy practice. My journaling might be scribbles on a sticky note about whatever jumps to my attention. A quick phrase in my phone in response to a guided journaling prompt I saw online. A bullet list on the back of an envelope while waiting to pick up my child.
And some days, some weeks even, I don’t journal at all.
That last admission has shocked more than a few clients, workshop participants, and others whose image of me as a journaling expert sets up a standard of perfection I just don’t meet. My expertise comes from education, training, practice, collaboration, and more than a few failures that have taught me humility, creativity, and how to think on my feet.
I’m not a bad journal writer. I’m an imperfect being with a penchant for writing and a fair amount of education and training in how to facilitate other people’s journaling process. I’m most certainly an imperfect journal writer.
My hope is that you’ll embrace your identity as an imperfect journal writer, too.
Journaling can be such a permissive process, if we’ll allow ourselves to engage it in as imperfect beings. The process does not have to replicate any bad experiences you had with academic writing. You can create safety around the process that you may not have felt if you were a child or teen, worried that someone might discover your diary. Writing in a journal can take whatever form you choose.
But you have to choose to engage with the process. And that’s where my pragmatic nature shines when I’m working with people who don’t consider themselves journal writers.
My philosophy is that whatever kind of journaling you will do, that fits your life at this moment, is the right kind of journaling. If your life allows you to write one word every now and then, start there. Figure out if paper, digital, or a mixture suits your lifestyle (while I’m enamored with hand-pressed paper and calligraphy quills, I’d journal about twice a year if I made them a prerequisite for journaling). Then, just start. And pat yourself on the back for what you’ve done.
You’ll inevitably find yourself not journaling in the way that you intended. Don’t turn that into a problem! It’s more important to become adept at refining your process and starting over when you’ve taken a break from journaling. Go back to the question of what fits your life at this moment, then start again.
See? It’s not that hard to be a “bad” journaler (wink!).
I invite you to chuck all the expectations that you and others may have for what a “good” journaling practice looks like. You’ll know your journaling practice is good enough for you when you start to see benefits from it.
Journaling can offer a way forward for those of us who feel anxious, indecisive, or unheard. It also helps us more effectively cope with our sensitivity, emotions, deep thoughts, and relationships. It can strengthen your ability to practice self-compassion and self-acceptance.
All this power and potential resides in you, in the process you create as a journal writer. It is unique to you and free to change as you evolve.
You don’t need me or anyone else to show you the right way to journal. Nowhere in the process of acquiring my journaling expertise have I seen the value or need for perfection, rigidity, or a one-size-fits-all approach. Honestly, even expertise seems ridiculous, given that there are an infinite number of right ways and no wrong ways, just detours on the road to (re)starting your journaling practice. You are your own expert when it comes to journaling.
But if all that freedom locks you in place, I recommend starting with this exercise. Set aside 10 minutes to write in response to something. You could write about a word you’ve recently heard or a headline you’ve read. Draw a card from an oracle or tarot deck. Look at a photo. Observe nature. Listen to a song. Take a smell of your favorite scent. Stare at a candle. If you want to respond to a prompt and don’t have a set to use, I have a collection of free guided journaling downloads organized by theme.
Whatever you choose, pick something that sparks a reaction (thought, feeling, behavior, sensation) in you. Then just start writing and see where the process takes you. If you’re done in one word, perfect. If you use 2,000 words, equally perfect.
Or skip words entirely. Journal by sketching, painting, taking a picture, composing music, sculpting.
The point of this exercise is to give yourself an experience of letting yourself externalize and encapsulate something of your internal experience (thoughts, feelings, physical sensations, etc.).
Experiment with noticing and honoring your needs, desires, and preferences as you journal. Hopefully, you’ll adapt this initial exercise in many ways as you go down the road of making journaling a meaningful part of your life, whatever that means for you.
Whatever you do, please don’t give in to pressure to take on someone else’s way of journaling. I hope you will actively rebel against the internal and external messages that journaling must happen in a certain way. Be a revolutionary journaler and forge your own path.
I’ll be doing the same, a proudly bad journaler.