Journaling felt like a cliché – until it wasn’t. What actually happens in your brain when you put pen to paper — and how to make it work for you
WORDS: Rhys Thomas Pics: Shutterstock
It’s annoying, but sometimes small habits make huge differences. Despite being a writer focused on wellness, I was awfully late to the journalling game.
I’d seen all manner of people swear by the act as a method for helping them get through their days with greater peace, clarity, and determination.
From Leonardo da Vinci to Taylor Swift – the idea of journalling has a rich and varied history and has absolutely nothing to do with a literary ability.
Yet I found myself grimacing at the idea, it reminded me of diaries. I felt a very narcissistic concern with the idea that one day a thousand years from now, someone may discover the endless books I didn’t discard that voiced all of the most trivial concerns.
Eventually, I came around. In a particularly anxious time in my life, a therapist suggested journalling enough that I figured “well, I can’t lose anything from it, and it’ll get this guy off my back”. So I started, and every page I filled felt like a plate being taken off each side of the barbell of life.
But don’t take my word for it, I’ve spoken to some experts to get the lowdown on just what it is about this journalling I do that works.
Why journalling works
“Put simply, journaling works because it reduces the noise of what is going on in your head,” says Dave Cottrell, a Lived Experience Mental Health Educator for the NHS.
The same logic has often been applied to keeping a notepad by your bed, some sort of alchemy works where when we write down the thoughts that are keeping us awake down, we tend to be able to let go of them and sleep – in that case Cottrell reckons it is “because committing it to paper lets us forget, as the paper will remember.”
It’s similar with journalling: what we are doing is allowing our mind to let go of the many things it is holding onto at once, but we can go further into what is happening.
Dr Claudia Mulligan, a psychologist at Soho Psychology London describes journalling as “translating the chaos of inner experience into language”.
In this sense, not only can our mind dispose of its woes, but it can also take a step back and look at each of them clearly. Mulligan adds “finding words for an emotion or worry engages the prefrontal cortex, the part of the brain responsible for reasoning and regulation – which in turn quietens the more reactive, emotional parts.”
The benefits
This letting go, and then processing what concerns us, is the benefit. A little like meditation, but in a way that relies a little less on mindfulness, and a little more on using your hands to put the issues in front of you, and then letting your eyes do the work from there. Cottrell says “the phrase I use to describe what you will feel is ‘a little space, creates a lot of room’.”
By letting go a little, we have just a little more of a sense of peace to go through our day with, the things that come our way are just that little less stressful or intense.
When to expect to feel something working
I found this level of effect happen pretty immediately. The day I started, I felt a little more organised, a little less paralysed in thought and a little more able to take steps towards the things I needed to do.
As time went on, this compounded. Days became that little bit more manageable and I was sleeping better, which in turn gave me a little more energy to go into the day ahead.
More than anything, it gave me a device that I could use to get back on track when my thoughts were going in circles, doing metaphorical doughnuts, as it were.
Mulligan says that “regular journalling has been associated with improved emotional regulation, reduced anxiety, better quality sleep, and a greater sense of self-awareness”.
All of which do ring true to my experience, even if life means some weeks are still harder than I’d like. The accumulative sense of peace has been huge, but the initial relief was an even bigger surprise.
How to journal
Naturally, as I was in an anxious state of mind starting out, I over-thought the idea of what it meant to journal well, or properly, or in a way that wouldn’t waste my time or interfere with my work and would have results. The general consensus of it as a highly flexible tool to utilise left me with more questions than answers.
Mulligan says that “a good starting point is 15 minutes a day, written by hand, somewhere private — either at the start of the day to set an intention, or at the end to decompress”.
And that is pretty much what I do. I tend to be the sort of person who wakes up so full of thought that I can’t get anything done, so I do 15 minutes (or at least three pages in my A6 notebook, whichever comes first) in the morning. In the evening, just before I go to bed, I’ll write a little half-page or so reflecting on the day. Sometimes that makes me go into a thought-spiral, if it does, I stop doing the evening sessions for a few days.
In terms of what to even write, Mulligan says a few simple prompts can help. “What is most pressing for me right now? What have I been avoiding? What is going well? What have I learned that can help me grow? What brought me joy today? What disturbed my peace, and how can I protect it going forward?”
But you don’t even have to write: some people bullet point, some even sketch things. “The only way to really ‘fail’ at journalling is to go through the motions and not feel any of it,” says Cottrell.
My advice would be to do it by hand – and uninterrupted. If you’re a little pedantic like me, use a notebook that’s nice enough that you don’t find yourself spending the whole time getting annoyed at the notebook.
Oh and of course, I’d advise giving it a go if you haven’t. I was reluctant, but I can honestly say I notice the difference in my days when I don’t do it. The solution? Journal it.
