Today’s article is the third in a Navel Gazette series asking avid journalers why they journal. In Part 1, business coach Ayana Onoura shared her view that "your mind is for problem solving, not problem storing." Part 2 discussed “Why journaling is like wine tasting” with Wine and Whisky Globe’s Renee Wilmeth. Here in Part 3, I share my own approach to more than 30 years of journaling.
My journaling history is deeply entwined with my professional arc. In my current work, I help academic researchers in new leadership roles get more time and better access to resources. To do that, they need to be clear on they want, honest about what they can handle, and effective in how they communicate. Journaling hones these abilities. By helping my clients declare their priorities, I serve a similar function.
I also credit my journal with my marriage of nearly 20 years. Ruthless self-analysis enabled me to recognize my husband when I met him in 2001. I was still in college, and insisted on living alone initially after graduation, but I was ready, when he showed up, for the lifelong commitment.
I was ten years into daily journaling by then. Since the age of 11, my journal has been my refuge. It is my constant companion, archive, and muse. It holds songs, poems, book titles, complaints, a-ha moments, affirmations, inner dialogue, cosmic theories, self-reproach, unsent letters, treasured memories, creative visions, daily plans, midnight rants, gratitude lists, and business ideas. In any given week. To this day.
For me, it’s a compulsion. I’ve had to cut back. I’m actually getting physical therapy for excessive pen-gripping. I’ve digitized as much as possible, particularly idea capture and goals. But while the computer is great for data processing, it won’t prompt my data generation. If I’m missing something, if I don’t know what I need next, writing longhand is the way I get an answer.
What comes through when I journal is not necessarily the answer, in terms of optimal decision making in a world of perfect knowledge, but it’s an accurate reflection of my current state. Without putting pen to paper, my thoughts and beliefs can hide from my awareness, whereas the journal lets me look right at them. Sometimes, what I see are cognitive distortions that dissolve under scrutiny. Other days, I find a timely truth. Often, I realize I lack evidence, and it’s time to get out and experiment.
In this way, paradoxically, the function of my navel gazing is that it prompts me to act. Faced with the limit of my understanding, I am primed to find answers. I’m even willing to make embarrassing mistakes to get those lessons. Anything to avoid what seems to me the worst fate: writing the same story over and over.
The blank page is the realm of creation. It accepts all that comes through. There’s no need to agonize, edit, or doubt. What wants to be said gets written.
Through journaling I meet myself, newly, each day. In opening the page I become the page — both transmitter and receiver.
Journal prompts to try:
What wants to be said within you today?
Describe a decision you’re having difficulty making.
What is one repeating pattern in your life you are ready to disrupt and reshape?
News: Journal Garden is Replanting - Academic Leadership Support
I am taking a break from the daily prompt service to rethink how I can best provide support for self-reflection. In line with my professional focus, my plan is to bring together the journaling concept with guidance on navigating the transition from completing the tenure track to creating new research ventures. I am imagining a small-group coaching experience with tools and guidance for launching collaborative projects in a university setting — like designing organizational structures, mapping out timelines, mitigating risks, and winning supporters. The focus is not just on "success" in terms of obtaining resources, but more importantly on maintaining a clear vision that directs all decision making.
If that's your current phase and this idea is intriguing, please reach out.