In high school I carried a spiral notebook everywhere I went, recording everything that went on during the day.  Long before Twitter and Facebook, my notebook was my social media of the 1980’s.

When I was younger, I journaled when I got home from school.  By 8th or 9th grade, I felt the need to have the journal with me at all times – I wanted to ability to write whenever I needed to.  The journals were simple spiral notebooks.  I wrote in them constantly, sometimes journaling through class, pretending to be taking notes.  The daily rants were usually about whatever boy I was obsessed with, interspersed with my inability to fit in, be thin, date a rock star or have more than a handful of close friends.

I hated high school.  This is evidenced by a pile of notebooks that share in intimate detail how depressed, anxious and hurt I’d become by the time I was halfway thru the experience.  The notebooks continued into my late 20’s, detailing dating (or the lack thereof), vacations, job changes, guitar purchases, being in and out of debt.  And then the journaling tapered off.

Along with playing music, I’d put writing to the side.  All writing: no stories, no journals.  Some of this was due to computers – email had replaced letters, and word processing had begun to replace my notebook.  I’d been taking classes in addition to working.  There was the occasional boyfriend.  I’d started gaming.  But ultimately, I’d put my creativity on hold.  I wasn’t writing.

This process of journaling starts and stops several more times through my 30’s.

While standing in Barnes & Noble yesterday, I found myself staring at Julia Cameron’s The Artist’s Way.  I’ve read parts of it, but not the entire book.  I’ve been told by many to respect the Morning Pages.  Morning Pages are 3 pages of stream of consciousness writing done when one first wakes up.  For some reason, I’ve been resistant to Morning Pages.  Which for a writer makes no sense, but there you go.

Ok, I thought, standing there looking at the book.  Maybe it’s time to do this.

So this morning, when my husband and I agreed it was time to get out from under the pile of blankets, he went off to get dressed and start coffee, and I sat in bed with my notebook and wrote.  It took about 15 minutes and it was very easy to get 3 pages worth written.  I’m still not sure if it’s 3 pages front and back, or 3 sides of pages – I’ve seen contradictions on what is really expected.  At this point, I feel like if I’m writing 3 sides of pages each morning that’s better than nothing.

My hope is if I keep this up, and try to make it a habit, then when sitting down to write a few nights a week I’ll have an easier time sinking into my creative mode, even when I’m exhausted from a 9+ hour workday.  In the past, I scoffed at the thought of Morning Pages, but I don’t know why that is.  Journaling in high school likely helped keep me somewhat grounded.  Maybe this will be a good thing – I’ll be sure to update.

I’m curious how many others have ventured into completing Morning Pages.  Have you stuck with it and did it help your overall creative process?  Have you found another process that works better?  Feel free to comment and share below.

Happy Writing,
-Heather

Originally posted on Spare Time Writer dot Com