Today marks the end of a sort of unofficial holiday period for 1K. On the 7th the blog hit one year, on the 8th 1K hit 500 days, and today my personal journal got its 500th consecutive entry. It’s funny that I have a clear snapshot of every day of the project but not those first four. I remember bits and pieces of those early days, but not much. I remember that on the Thursday I wrote close to an exact 1,000 words, the Friday nearer 1.400 and the Friday was a 4-5K day. The Saturday was another 1,000 and I was starting to feel the strain by that point. When I got to the Sunday I wasn’t thinking of this as a lifechanging project, more a nice to have. But I wanted to keep it going.
I grabbed a blue journal I picked up on a whim the week before. In an attempt to work through the mental sludge wrote a page. I called it ‘Stress or burnout’. That has been the big question whenever I’ve hit a mental roadblock ever since. Yet on that first day I still don’t know which it was. If I had to guess, it was stress, because my life was a trainwreck back then. Today I wrote the 500th entry, and focused it on pushing myself further. I’ve gone from clinging on to rushing ahead in the last 16 and a half months for sure. Now with the bullet journals too, I have a near enough perfect catalogue of every day of my life.
Which does beg the question of, why? I answered that in my ‘Action, Reflection, Accountability’ post, but it is still a fair question. In a way it’s a bit narcissistic. In another way it’s the opposite; I don’t force anyone to read these posts and I don’t let anyone read my journal. Keeping a journal does change the way you look at yourself though. For me, I started to care about myself a lot more because nothing is quite as draining as endless sad entries. It made me look out for patterns, something the bullet journal had pushed to a new level. But longform journalling is more valuable than the bullet journal. That’s because it gives a clearer picture of my thoughts, at length, and closer to the way they come to me in the real world.
It is a bit strange that I maintain this blog, two bullet journals and a diary in tamden. But then it’s weird that I write a novel either from scratch or in a rewrite every two and a bit months. If it works it works.