Keep What Fits, Ditch the Rest
Okay. How are you doing this week, actually?
Not the hallway version. Really. We've gone through a bunch of methods together now — one-line-a-day, gratitude lists, the grocery-list thing, bullet journaling that I personally could not make work. This week I want to talk about what you do with all that once class is over.
Short answer: you keep what fits and you ditch the rest. No guilt.
There's no right way, no matter what anyone sells you
I'll say the quiet part. Anytime somebody's selling you a system — five steps, a special app, a $40 guided journal with prompts printed in it — they're selling you a system. That's their business. It's not automatically wrong for you, but it's not the one true way either, because there isn't one.
I've tried a bunch of stuff in front of you these last few weeks. Some of it stuck for me. Some of it didn't. Bullet journaling lasted about four days before my boxes turned into a crime scene. That's not a moral failure, mine or yours. It just wasn't the shape my brain wanted to write in.
Your notebook doesn't owe loyalty to any method. It owes you honesty. That's it.
How to actually sort through what we've covered
Here's what I'd do, at home, this week, with an actual pen in your hand:
- Flip back through your notebook from this course. Don't read it like a critic. Just notice which pages you wrote a lot on without trying, and which ones felt like homework.
- Circle or star the ones that felt easy. Maybe it was the one-line-a-day format. Maybe it was writing about an old menu. Maybe, heck yes, it was just complaining onto paper and you didn't even notice the class part.
- Make a short list, just for yourself, of what you're keeping. Not a system. A list. "One line most mornings." "Gratitude, but only if I mean it." "Sometimes I copy down a grocery list." That's plenty.
- Let the rest go without a funeral. You don't have to announce you're quitting bullet journaling to anyone but yourself. I did, loudly, to basically everyone in my ward, because I'm dramatic. You don't have to be.
A text message that taught me more than any book did
A friend from the ward was going through a hard stretch last year, and I talked her into trying gratitude lists, kind of pushy about it honestly, because I believe in them. A few days later she texted me: "this is stupid, but I feel better."
That's the whole review. That's better than anything printed on the cover of a fancy journal. She didn't adopt my whole method. She didn't buy a special notebook. She just took the one piece that worked for her, in the moment she needed it, and let it be enough.
I think about that text a lot. Mostly because it's proof that the thing doesn't have to look impressive to work. It just has to work for the person holding the pen.
A caution, gently
If you're the type who collects hobbies and then feels guilty about the ones you dropped — I am absolutely this type — watch that with journaling too. A notebook you abandoned isn't evidence you failed. It's evidence you tried something and learned it wasn't yours. That's a fine outcome. Better than never trying it.
And if you're switching from a fancy notebook to a cheap one, or the other way, don't overthink the switch. I go cheap every time, spiral-bound, checkout aisle at Macey's. It's never once judged me for writing something stupid in it. Yours might feel different. That's allowed too.
Before next time
Go home and write your own short list — the two or three things from this whole course you're actually going to keep doing. Not what you think you should keep. What you noticed yourself reaching for. Bring the list next time if you want to share it, or don't. Either way, that list is yours now, not mine. 🌞