
Creating in the Margins
February 2, 2024
Sinking in Social Media
April 9, 2024I stare at a blank page, pen in hand and think to myself, “is it really worth it?”
I think of all the things I could be doing, reading a book, maybe tidying my desk, maybe making myself a nice tea— my mind drifts.
But no, I’ve committed to writing these pages and these pages I will write, even if it takes me all day.
Why? A writer friend named Angela told me the practice has improved not only her creativity, but her life. Before her, I’ve seen other creatives and writers incorporating them into their lives intentionally.
What are they? The phrase and idea behind “morning pages” was coined by creative genius Julia Cameron, who has led thousands all over the world in living “unblocked” creative lives through her workshops and book called The Artists Way. This is her definition:
“Morning Pages are three pages of longhand, stream of consciousness writing,
done first thing in the morning. *There is no wrong way to do Morning Pages*–
they are not high art. They are not even “writing.” They are about
anything and everything that crosses your mind– and they are for your eyes
only. Morning Pages provoke, clarify, comfort, cajole, prioritize and
synchronize the day at hand. Do not over-think Morning Pages: just put
three pages of anything on the page…and then do three more pages tomorrow.”
I look back at my empty page and scribble these words, “I don’t know why I’m doing this; I’ve heard it’s really amazing, but it feels like a waist of valuable time…”
After sticking to this thing for a few months, what I’ve found has surprised me. Not only have they become easier to write, but they’ve also taught me so valuable truths.
M o m e n t u m
Writing stream of consciousness is simple, but that doesn’t mean it’s easy. If you’re like me, it can be incredibly difficult to begin writing about not only your life, but your thought life. Why? Because my mind is so cluttered, so bursting full that I’m not sure I can make sense of it all, even on a page. Sometimes my brain feels like a hoarder’s house, so full of old books and clothes that one can no longer move about without bumping into something. But as I’ve endeavored to do this thing, I’ve found that in a way it’s like taking out the trash and clutter in my mind so that I can think more clearly for the rest of the day.
If you’re me, you’d rather not always face the thoughts now out of your head and onto the page because seeing them in black ink, irrevocable, unforgivably staring back at you is scary. What if you don’t really want to know what you’re thinking? The thing I found, after several days of writing morning pages, is that I don’t always like the thought patterns that emerge.
One such pattern is attacking the day from a place of lack. Now if you’ve read my blog about this, you’ll know that this is a pattern I’m trying to break. I’m learning that if I believe that God is truly working in me and through me (Philippians 2:13), then He is perfectly capable of accomplishing it. Does this require my involvement and obedience? Of course, but I don’t think He needs my help in the form of the constant, preoccupied, meddling in order to accomplish them. Thing about patterns though, is sometimes it requires a conscious effort in order to break them, they don’t just disappear when you shine the light on them and say “shoo.” You must banish them firmly and consistently.
How? By showing up each morning with the conscious attitude of abundance. It shifted my mentality from ingratitude to gratitude and gratitude produces momentum. Have you ever started noticing the things that go right in a day? Or the secret things that give you joy? They multiply before your eyes if you’re looking for them, like baby rabbits in the spring. The same is true on the flip side, if you’re looking for things to grumble about, they will accost you in abundance. With morning pages, I’ve found that writing in this way gives me a physical— something I can see and feel — sense of moving forward, rather than being stuck in the same patterns that subconsciously rule my life.
Sometimes you need to write your thoughts down to know that you don’t want to be thinking them anymore.
P s a l m s
The thing that shows up most often, like flowers popping up all over the page, are requests I make to God. They often interrupt a thought, a frustration or even a gratitude. They’re a heart cry, something I could never remedy or take credit for on my own. My morning pages have become prayers that I don’t just think, but I see coming to life before me.
I think one of the greatest injustices we can inflict upon our faith is our lack of remembrance. Let’s face it, we’re fickle creatures that usually flit from one thing to the next. If and when a prayer is answered, I’m not convinced we always notice. If we can’t notice or recall the ways God is moving in our lives, I think that is on us. This makes me think of the quote by Anne Grahm Lotz which says: “God is a gentleman. He won’t force His way into your life or insist on helping when you don’t seem to want it or even push Himself into your situation. He waits for you to ask before He intervenes….” I don’t think God stands in heaven with a microphone saying, “did you notice what I did there?” Like I sometimes do with my husband (sorry, Steven). God acts unselfishly from a place of love that requires nothing in return, not even that we notice when He answered a prayer, we forgot we even uttered. I think consciously looking for them so they can be documented in morning pages, may help remedy this error.
In their penning, I’ve found myself wondering if David’s Psalms began as morning pages. He wrote his frustrations, his worry, his despair and in doing so, more often than not, checked them with praise and declaring God’s sovereignty in conclusion. He often wrote about coming to God in the morning, like Psalms 5:3, which states: “My voice You shall hear in the morning, O Lord; In the morning I will direct it to you, And I will look up.” Here’s the thing though, David wasn’t just praying in the morning, He was also writing about it. Here’s a thought to ponder, if David didn’t consistently write down his prayers and thoughts, would we even have the Psalms — one of the most beautiful, raw and poetic works of scripture? Would God have found someone else willing to write them instead?
Now my morning pages certainly aren’t as pretty or as poetic, as the Psalms, but they contain the essence of what makes me tick, what I dwell on and who I look to for salvation. If it’s myself, I will surely be disappointed, but if it’s God who keeps showing up in my pages, then it’s a worthy endeavor for that fact alone. Writing them gives an opportunity to turn worry into prayer, check an ungrateful spirit and remind myself of truth. Stream of consciousness is crucial here, because it reveals our deepest needs, unfiltered souls and hidden motives, much like David, as He bared his soul before God. This is the heart posture that I believe was so pleasing to God that He called David, “a man after His own heart.”
T h e S c i e n c e
While I’d be remis to declare that my brain has morphed into an incredible organism capable of world dominancy through the act of writing morning pages, I’d still like to highlight the interesting benefits that I’ve stumbled across. The Norwegian University of Science and Technology conducted a study on a group of students that suggest that handwriting— with a pen and a page— may help improve cognitive function.
Why is this, you ask? Well, the students were told to either write or type words like forest or hedgehog within 25 seconds. A cap of sensors, with 256 electrodes, was placed on their head to measure their brain waves. “Our main finding was that handwriting activates almost the whole brain as compared to typewriting, which hardly activates the brain as such. The brain is not challenged very much when it’s pressing keys on a keyboard as opposed to when it’s forming those letters by hand,” said Audrey van der Meer, the study’s co-author and a neuropsychology professor at NTNU told NBC News.
The first person to come to mind after reading about these findings was my grandma Mae who has been journaling for as long as I can remember, every-day. She is one of the most gratitude filled, joyful individuals who I’ve ever met. Her memory is also incredible. My bet is she’ll also be one of the first to read this this blog post (love you, Grandma).
So, there you have it, the simple act of consistently handwriting, during this metamorphosis into the digital age, may improve the long-term health of our brains. The idea of handwriting a manuscript is incredibly daunting but writing my thoughts — thoughts that are not to be edited or rearranged— are worth it. Thoughts that fill three pages. Thoughts that greatly influence my life, whether I’m truly aware of them or not.
Moment of truth, in this past week I’ve slacked off writing morning pages. Why? Because I haven’t been able to wake up earlier than my kids some days and that nagging voice of “is it really worth it?” plays like a loop in my brain. However, I will banish that thought, once and for all. I believe the most significant changes we can make in our lives are the ones we keep showing up for, not the more seemingly momentous ones. My hope is that if I continue with these “morning pages,” that I may be just a little less cluttered, a little more conscious, a little more intentional in my thought life and perhaps even have a better memory to boot. And that, will surely be worth it.
4 Comments
My morning pages practice breathes so much life into me, even often but just clearing out that which needs to go. I often go through seasons where I take a break from them, and I can always tell when it’s time to get back to them — not because I should but because I can sense my need for them.
I should have known you write them, because you’re so articulate and thoughtful when you write. I love this perspective though, "sensing the need for them," not just another "to-do."
My morning pages practice breathes so much life into me, even often but just clearing out that which needs to go. I often go through seasons where I take a break from them, and I can always tell when it’s time to get back to them — not because I should but because I can sense my need for them.
I should have known you write them, because you’re so articulate and thoughtful when you write. I love this perspective though, "sensing the need for them," not just another "to-do."