Original article written by local Mississauga seniors, with publishing assistance of Mississauga Arts Guide editors.
I remember when I first decided to start writing in a journal every day. It was a simple idea that sparked excitement in me—a chance to document my thoughts, experiences, and the little moments that make up life. So, armed with a new notebook and a pen, I began my journey into the world of daily journaling.
I was taking a creative writing course and our instructor recommended we journal, to help with writers block and improve our writing skill. I suffer terribly with writer’s block, so this was a great idea.
At first, I was enthusiastic. Each evening, I would sit down with my journal, eager to pour out my thoughts onto the page. It felt like a release, a way to untangle the jumble of thoughts in my mind and make sense of the day’s events.
But on day three of my new adventure, reality set in. What do I write, when I have nothing to write about? I started at my blank page of paper for fifteen minutes, before writing the sentence “I had cheerios for breakfast, and washed the dishes” and closed the book. How insightful. I thought maybe inspiration will come to me later in the day, but it never did, and I forgot to complete my entry.
After only one week of journaling, I was seriously reconsidering my new hobby. But I had made a promise to myself. I read that it takes 2 months, 66 days for a new habit to develop. So I told myself I would keep journaling for 2 months, and if at the end of two months I wanted to quit, I would.
I kept at it but journaling didn’t become any easier. Sometimes days were just plain ordinary, with nothing noteworthy to write about. “What’s the point?” I would think to myself. Other days, life got busy, and amidst the hustle and bustle, I would forget to pick up my pen. It was during these moments of struggle that I learned the true value of discipline. I realized that even on the most mundane days, there was something to write about. Whether it was a fleeting thought, a brief encounter, or simply a description of the weather, every entry added up to create a snapshot of my life.
I found solace in the simplicity of the task. Just five minutes a day was all it took to sit down and jot down a few lines. It became a meditative practice, a moment of quiet reflection in the midst of a busy world. I realized that I didn’t need to write anything profound or artistic. Writing simple sentences was good enough.
As I continued with my daily journaling, I noticed an unexpected improvement in my writing. The act of putting pen to paper every day honed my skills, allowing me to express myself more clearly and eloquently.
Now, as I approach the three-month mark of this daily activity, I find myself looking forward to my journaling sessions. It has become a calming ritual, a way to unwind at the end of the day.
One of the joys of journaling is the ability to look back on past entries. Sometimes, I’ll flip through the pages and read about moments that have long since passed. It’s a way to remember, to relive those experiences, both big and small.
What strikes me the most is how my mood can shift from day to day, reflected in the words on the page. One day I might be filled with excitement and optimism, while the next I could be grappling with worries and doubts.
Through my journal, I’ve also come to appreciate the small things that bring me joy. A phone call with my niece once a week has become a hallmark of my week, a bright spot that I always look forward to. Or the simple pleasure of finding bananas on sale at the grocery store, a small victory that never fails to make me smile.
In the end, daily journaling has become more than just a habit—it’s a source of comfort, reflection, and self-discovery. It has taught me the power of consistency, the value of small moments, and the joy of capturing life’s journey, one page at a time.
