The Adventures of Journaling

            In her book The Right to Write, Julie Cameron reports that she writes three “Morning Pages,” to start off every day.  For her it is a way to steady herself, clear brain fog, and create her day. The diaries of Anne Frank, Anais Nin, Samuel Pepys, Virginia Woolf, and many others immortalize not only their authors but provide us important historical records.

            But journals that are assigned as school work are often fraught. Students know that the teacher will be reading and grading their reflections. That phantom teacher looking over one’s shoulder is invasive, judgmental, and restrictive. No wonder that many of us find the whole thought of daily journaling to be somewhere between annoying and odious.

            I assigned daily journaling to my students in their senior capstone course in which they create original manuscripts in their choices of genre. And I assure them that I will not read their journals unless they explicitly ask me to look at specific portion of what they have written. This, of course, comes as a surprise.  There seems to be a pedagogical imperative that teachers must read and “mark” everything their students produce.  Not only does this vigilance cramp and disgruntle students, it overburdens teachers and promotes burn-out and resentment.

            We have a period of rehab to help us all embrace journaling as a vital adventure in our lives.  On our first day together, I give them each a marble composition book—as a gift, a boost, as a symbol of our community.

I journal with them, so that I’m not top-downing with requirements that even I can’t satisfy. It’s one thing to send a group of campers out into the woods by themselves, quite another to keep them company and, at times, lead the way. As of September 2018, I have faithfully written in a composition book every day—in three years, I have missed only five or so times.

We agree to write every day.  It’s best to reduce the waffling that less than a full commitment invites, and the decision whether to on a given day.

We titrate—meaning, we build up--the number of daily pages to write.  I maintain my 3 pages in college-ruled composition books, and 4 in wide-ruled.  They start out with one page a day.  The following two weeks it’s two pages per day.  Finally, we top off at 3 pages a day in college-ruled books.  This titrating gentles the process, removes pressure, and gives students opportunities to write more, without pressure.

I still have fears and resistances that come from my early schooling—and an internalized strict schoolmarm, whom I call “Generalissima.”  And my students do, as well.  We find ways to keep the commitment without being harsh.

For one, there’s the question of timing.  Ideally, I will write my daily 3-4 page entry in the morning, as Cameron does—sometimes as early as 2:00 AM, if I have insomnia.  But I’m easy on myself if I have to write it later.  The other night I started to write it at 11:50 PM—it was not a hard day, otherwise, and I didn’t want to skip a day for no good reason.  So, although it takes me about 30 minutes to write, if I start before midnight—it counts! On some days, though not often, I write the entry in different stages at different times of the day.

Similarly, although sitting on my living room couch triggers me to start writing, I have written my journal sitting by a hospital bed, riding in a car or train, waiting for a movie to start, in a class with my students, at a conference (during a boring or an interesting session).

Three of the five days I missed in the past three years were on days when I spent thirteen hours in a recording studio, with two-hour drives on each end.  Although on other studio days I found ways to write in my journal during the sessions, there was a day when I completely forgot. I do NOT let Generalissima give me a hard time. 

Here are some other ways that I have befriended journaling as a vital adventure every day:

RENAMING

Calling daily entries a “journal” may be too formal (and therefore stressful).  It might raise memories of toxic school experiences.  Calling it a “diary” may seem, to some, too juvenile or girly. Anne Frank named her diary “Kitty,” positing a kind a friendly presence listening to her.  Cameron calls hers “Morning Pages,” which encourages her to write them first thing. I call my daily writing in my marble composition book “Musings.”  The word reminds me that writing every day is a gentle process of inviting my Muses to inspire an adventure for us.

RITUALS

Part of my ritual is to write in composition books.  The only decision is which color to adopt each time I start a new book.  I also use the same type of pen—right now a Pilot G 207 with a bold tip, blue ink only.  I keep a supply of refills at the ready at all times.

I head each entry on a line including the outside temperature, the time, where I am, the looks of the sky/weather, the date, the day of the week.  This helps me to focus and offers me a record of the day.  I underline this banner.  And I’m in.  Design your own favorite way to head each day’s entry.

            PERSONALIZING

Daily writers have many ways to make their journals distinctively their own.  One of my students used different colored inks to reflect her mood.  Another illustrated her work with drawings.  Still another scrapbooked in photographs, memorabilia, even a fall leaf. 

I have experimented with writing my journal from the bottom line upward, because it seemed to me that the constant top-downing might be an unfortunate life metaphor—starting out strong and then descending.  I also wrote in mirror image, starting at the right side of the page and proceeding to the left.  You might even write in a spiral.  Or zig-zag.  Change it up.  You’re on an adventure.

Own your journal.

SETTING TOPICS

There are different levels of what and how to write, from the more conventional to the most inspiring. In any given day’s entry, I will bounce from one to the other, often coming to the most interesting somewhere around the bottom of page 2.  It can take me that long to clear the waves.

Records:

Download: Bitch and moan about your day. Vent. Rage. Clear the faucet.  I do this, from time to time, but don’t find it satisfying as a regular strategy.  It just keeps me grinding away at things I might not be able to change.

Report on the day: Especially when some interaction, event, puzzle engages my attention, I write about it.  I love rereading earlier journals to remember the who, what, where, how, and why of my days.

Plan: Make your commitments for the day. Or beyond.

Explorations:

Free write: Using Professor Peter Elbow’s method, just free associate.  If you have to, repeat the same over and over again.  Just fill the pages. Have fun.  Something interesting will emerge.

Project:  I often muse about my teaching, my projects, my adventures.  If I’m working on a poem, I will start drafting it as part of my musings.  My poet friend Eli, a former student, committed himself to writing two pages a day with an additional third in which he drafted a new poem.

Review: Write about you’re reading, viewing, hearing, experiencing.  This is tremendously helpful in retaining what you take in and how you want to remember it.  I often take notes in my composition book to help me focus on what I find important and worthy.

Embrace the Here-Now: If I come to a stopping point, I will often switch to describing exactly where I am—what am I seeing? Hearing? Tasting? Smelling? Touching?  Who is near me and what is she or he doing or saying?

Soul Searching:

Name your life values in some entries. One of the most satisfying ways to journal (or write to Kitty or Muse) is to explore your philosophical and spiritual questions.  It is a source of inspiration and way to set my life on the course which best reflects my journey in being what I most value.

Intentions:

To reduce the OMG What AM I Going to Write About Blues?!?!, it might be useful to set yourself a theme for the week.  Perhaps you’ll choose a different emotion to write about for each of the next seven days.  Or a different color, how it shows up in your life, what it conjures for you. Or commit to heading each entry with a favorite quote.  Maybe you can commit to drafting and reflecting on a poem about a different family member each day.  Or, if you are traveling, to choose your favorite touring site and describe it in detail.  Keep a record of your sleeping/dreaming patterns for a week. 

Inventory:

Toward the end of an entry, I often review what I discovered in the process of writing it.  I have found even on days when I feel scattered and plodding, some gems of ideas and insights did, in fact, emerge.

Above all, use your imagination.  Create your own adventure in daily writing.

Let us know about your positive experiences with writing a journal.  What were the factors that made it an adventure worth repeating?