Why I Don't Buy Journals
/When I was a younger, I had this superstition that I could only write in journals that were given to me. As someone who was known as a "writer," a journal became a go-to gift for my family and friends.
Then, in high school, my best friend at the time gave me a journal I adored. The cover design, the feel of the pages, and the size just felt so right. She even inscribed it and I loved that I get to see her words cheering me on each time I opened it.
The bad part about journals we love is that eventually they run out of pages.
I remembered a few years later while visiting her, I needed a new journal and bought myself one at a bookstore. I had her inscribe that one also, trying to re-create the magic that was that original journal.
Ever since then, I've been trying to find a journal that fit like that one she gave me or the one I eventually bought.
The thing is, I go through journals fast. I write in them everyday and so every few months I need to find a new one.
I would find that ending a journal would produce a unique kind of anxiety. When am I going to find the time to go to the store to find a new journal? Will I find one I like as much as this one? How much will it cost? Will I be able to get one before this one runs out? All kinds of questions would fill my brain. Sometimes I'd even slow down or make my handwriting tiny so I could make it last a little bit longer.
Then one day I realized that I could actually "go shopping" at home. As I mentioned, I've been gifted blank books often throughout my life and always kept them with an intention of filling them up. Before, I'd opt to buy myself one instead because I'd find something wrong with the ones I had already: I didn't like the cover, the feel of the pages, the lines or no lines, the spiral binding or lack thereof.
Then I realized that if I always kept buying new journals then I'd never actually write in the ones that I have already.
So a few years ago I made myself a rule: I was not allowed to buy any more new journals until there were no more blank books in my possession. Until I filled every page in every book I had already (including the ones I started and then stopped when a better journal came along), I was not allowed to bring a new one into the house.
Guess what? Five years later, I'm still working on filling up all the journals.
I've come to love this process.
Not only is it rewarding to see the pages of books I've held onto for decades finally fill up, it's been fun to pick from the collection and say, “Yes,” to a journal I had previously said, “No” to.
I've filled up books I collaged the covers of in middle school. I've completed a journal that my grandmother began and then I inherited after her death. I've found enjoyment in the variety of journals I do have and am amazed at how I could grow a fondness for ones I rejected before. Plus, it's a great way to use what I got instead of playing into the consumerist attitude of more is more.
I've still got more to go. I even found journals my Dad had and never filled so those are going into the collection too.
It's a rewarding practice to see that what I thought I lacked I actually had in abundance.
Plus, it’s an affirmation that the point of journaling is the clarity that comes from the writing, not the book that it's in.
I'd love hear:
Do you have a regular journal practice?
Are there certain qualities that you prefer in your journals?
If you started to only write in the books you already have, how long do you think it will take you?
