I've been journaling daily since I was twenty. I picked up the practice of writing three-morning pages offered by Julia Cameron in her classic 'The Artist's Way,' a twelve-step book for recovering the artist within. Before this daily brain dumping on the page, I kept a diary. Keeping a diary meant recounting the activities of a young girl and woman's life in reportage style peppered with a few questions of longing. As a teen, I wrote angsty, unassigned poems illustrated with heavy, ornate black abstract ink frames and I wrote letters incessantly. Mostly to pass to friends and crushes between classes.
But I wasn't a "Writer” yet.
In my early thirties, I attended my first artist residency in Iceland. I spent thirty days in rapture. It was there that I became aware of my adoration and possible obsession with language. I started to see word shapes and their meanings nested in meaning. Words became physical. They also became vehicles and vessels for time travel. I began to think of words as sculpture. During my residency, I wanted a word I couldn't find, and so I made one up. Heartlisten. It means what it says. Please pick it up and use it well. When I die, may my word live past me.
In my late thirties, I began "Writing". It was a surprise gift and one that came wrapped in wonder. "Can I have this? Can I be this? Can I qualify?" These were questions scribbled in my mind as I scribbled on the page. What was different about this "Writing" versus my journal writing was that it was lyrical prose punctuating periods of my life. This new writing was a process of unearthing the story buried in the events of my life. It was active research. It was cathartic. It was poetic. It was suddenly impossible to not write.
The pernicious questions persist: "Can I have this? Can I be this? Can I qualify?". I answer them best by writing versus looking for validation outside myself. This is why I started Sunday Circle. To give myself a weekly vehicle to move words from inside myself to outside in a timely way.
In addition to writing Sunday Circle, I recently restarted and run a delightful writing workshop called Talespinning. It's a workshop I started when I began "Writing" in 2016? Or 2017? And then paused when I closed Instar Lodge, my community arts project space where I hosted Talespinning. It's a generative writing workshop that builds trust, intimacy, comradery, and a word count. Mostly wacky and always wonderful, it works to dispel rules of writing. It has always been a home for non-writers and writers to commingle with words, wine, and laughter.
This week at Talespinning, we discussed our processes and the art of journaling as a practice. Two things emerged from our conversation.
1. Inspired by Writing Down the Bones's author Natalie Goldberg's staunch belief in a generative writing practice, I've embarked on a 21day 21min+ daily writing practice with my Talespinning group (you are invited too). This is a commitment to write creatively for a minimum of 21 minutes daily and do it with accountability. You high-five yourself and let someone else high-five you as your witness. It's a practice, so the point is less the content of the writing and more the muscle development that builds with consistency. It's also an affirmative answer to the writers question, "Can I have this, can I be this, can I qualify?" OBVS, yes, if you are doing it!
2. Over the years, my morning pages have become formatted. I needed my journaling to not only be a container for dumping my overflowing mind onto the page but also be a navigational tool. I recognized that I have had one captain in my life: FEAR, and I want more voices at the table when daily decisions are being made. For this reason, I began a morning dialogue with three parts of myself: FEAR, CURIOSITY, and COMPASSION. I give each of these voices space to tell me what they think is important for me to hear. I always begin with FEAR, followed by CURIOSITY, followed by COMPASSION. Along with these captains, I check in with gratitude and daily intentions I've set for myself for the year1, as well as the good old "this is happening now” real-life recounting and dumping. This revised journaling practice is my morning medicine, along with a HUGE cup of strong coffee. I've been invited to share my journaling practice and template with my writing group (I want to share it with you, too). I've created a template of my journal outline (see below). Please use it as I've made or modify and iterate in ways that inspire what you need from your journaling practice.
I have over twenty years of boxes filled with lined composition notebooks. I do not revisit these. I'm unsure why I keep them, and I may burn them someday. Now, I keep big blank sheet journals that inspire me to be more graphic. Now, since changing my journal practice format, I refer to my journals frequently. My new practice is like a sea captain's log. I can easily chart progress, and I quickly know where to look to check the status of feelings, activities, etc. My journals are my journey’s field notes. May they inspire your own journaling as an art of navigation.
Below is my daily journaling template
PS. If you are interested in joining a future Talespinning group please message me. I offer Talespinning by invitation.
I have a new years tradition of setting one intention for the year rooted in how I want to be or feel most. Each day I affirm it and make a plan for how I’m enacting it.
Loved reading your words this morning Dawn, before doing my own 21 mins. This line <3 : "Words became physical. They also became vehicles and vessels for time travel. I began to think of words as sculpture."