In my life, I have never journaled for more than a few weeks. I have read of the many benefits of jotting down thoughts and feelings as a way to unload some of the mental burdens we carry. I understand that daily writing of things for which we are grateful helps to manifest that gratitude into happiness and reduced stress. I know the tangible way that pen on paper is far superior to typing on a keyboard for internalizing what is written. But still, I have never done it before.
I kept a journal throughout my reading of The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron as part of the agreement for the 12-week program. This book helped me to reconsider journaling as an entirely selfish act into one that unleashes creativity. Before the book, I thought of writing one’s thoughts each day as an exercise in “Look at me, I’m important.” With that untrue perspective, very few people should ever journal. I think we can all agree that we are glad that Anne Frank kept a diary, but she is the rare exception. Who will ever want to read my thoughts 80 years from now?
After reconsidering the activity, I realize I would not be writing for any audience other than myself. With this in mind, I am committing to daily journaling in 2026. I had planned to keep notes on the Camino. A very close friend anticipated that and ordered me a lovely, leather-bound, monogrammed, soft-sided journal for my trip. It is infinitely nicer than the one I had planned to bring. So, I had already decided to maintain this practice for 6 weeks out of the year; what’s 46 more?
I didn’t want to start cold at the beginning of the trail in the Pyrenees Mountains, because I felt like that would be too much pressure and potentially set me up for failure. If I had 4 months under my belt before, it would be a natural transition. Since I didn’t want to start on January 1, as most people would, I started 4 days before the new year.
I have to admit that I am not very good at it, which makes me happy that I started well before I got on a plane. I mostly write about my day, activities, encounters, and things that could appear on my calendar. I have not gotten comfortable enough yet to share any feelings or deep thoughts. It’s almost as if I don’t trust myself sharing intimate details of my thoughts. I should mention that my propriety has nothing to do with the notion that prying eyes may discover my journal and read it for salacious details. I reside in my home, largely unnoticed as it is; I doubt that anyone would take any more interest by reading my journal.
Somehow, I feel like I am in the early stages of a new relationship, and I’m unsure if it will last and how deep I should go with the stories and background. Does that make sense? I don’t know if it does, because it sounds weird to me, but it is precisely how I feel about the process.
Over time, I will begin to trust this budding relationship and start to reveal more interesting things… with any luck. In the meantime, it is a daily practice and one of the new items I have added to my early mornings. The house is dark and quiet, and it is just me, my fountain pen, and the ivory-lined pages of my Moleskine.
I trust the process and feel that, with anything new, it will take a while to start seeing any benefits. I’ve got time, ink, and blank pages, so I will report back later in the year.
The primary reason for this exercise is the six-week period of time when I will be alone, or at least not with my people, while traipsing across Spain. Each year, half a million people will trek across Spain on this pilgrimage, so I will hardly be alone. But, you know what I mean. I will have a lot of time in isolation and be left with my own thoughts, more time, in fact, than I have ever had in my life. I have a feeling I will have a lot of thoughts, some of which will even be worth recording for later consideration. This is why I want to develop the habit of daily journaling.
I have no idea if it will stick once I return, but I am hoping so.
During my career, I filled dozens of Moleskine notebooks from the conferences I attended. They are bound; I labeled them on the binding by year and found myself referring to them periodically as needed. There was a purpose for my taking notes and learning from the best and the brightest. But recording my thoughts and musings for only myself seems a bit odd to me, at least for now it does.
When I walked the 100 kilometers of the Portuguese Camino in 2023, I took notes and recorded my thoughts every day. I recently reread what I had written and was instantly transported back to the trail, and it was deeply meaningful to me. That was only a week, though, and a week flies by. Being away for six weeks is both thrilling and terrifying. By developing the habit long before my departure, I should have some pretty decent insights in addition to memories of a trip of a lifetime.
I can see my future self grateful for the time and energy I put into this exercise, and it is mostly for that guy that I am committing to this project. Of course, I will take loads of photos, but those pictures only capture the landscape and people I will encounter. A photo cannot capture feelings or thoughts, and for that, my future self will be happy to have both the images and the way I felt about the process each day.