A practice in presence, and a way to return to your own life.
You’re not here to become a better writer. You’re here to become more you.
You will write every day, just for a few minutes. Not because you have to. Not to impress anyone.
Because something inside you knows there’s more life to find. More to reflect, remember, redeem and reimagine. Writing helps you find it.
You don’t need to write perfectly. You don’t need a fancy journal. You need a small moment to notice, then a quiet moment to write it down. It’s more of a willingness than anything.
Think of it like this…
You’re planting seeds. Each one is small. Each seed is enough. Over time, those seeds will grow.
Three things to remember:
1. This isn’t desk work. It’s life work.
You’re not doing an assignment. You’re not getting graded. You’re paying attention.
The point isn’t to fill pages. The point is to notice something you might have otherwise missed.
Like the shape of your thoughts, the weight of a moment, the look your daughter gave you when you picked her up early from school for a daddy daughter date at her favorite restaurant.
Writing like this doesn’t sit still. It moves. It deepens. It brings you back to yourself.
2. Writing isn’t about writing. It’s about remarkable communication.
Years ago, I met a man named Ken. Sixty-two years old. He told our writing group,
“I’m dying from a rare form of cancer. I feel okay, but there’s something I need to finish. I’ve written these love letters to my wife, and I want help getting the communication right.”
That was the moment I stopped thinking of writing as “writing.”
Ken wasn’t trying to write well. He was trying to say something real while there was still time.
That’s what this is about.
3. Write in the spirit of yourself. Leave a trail of exploration behind you.
You’re not writing for the algorithm. You’re not writing to be liked. You’re writing to remember or express who you are.
Imagine your future self opening your journal five or ten years from now. What would you want them to see? What would you want them to feel?
Be honest. Be clear. Be simple. Say what happened. Say what it meant. Leave something behind for the one who’s still becoming.
Let me leave you with this prompt:
What tried to speak to you today that you may have otherwise missed?
That glance. That smell. That old feeling that rose up out of nowhere. Slow it down. Write it out. Give it a home on the page. You don’t need to explain it. You already saw it and lived it.