Journaling and the art of forgiveness

Journaling is one of my favorite hobbies. It’s writing that I do for myself. Reflecting on my days helps me to keep a healthy context on my teaching – and to remember the bigger picture amidst the day-to-day dramas of putting 300+ people together in a building. Journaling is self-care.

Reflecting on what I read converts my notebook into a thinking space. I draw connections across articles and books I’ve read. I record poems and songs that connect with me on an emotional level. I think through current events. And I apply theories I’m reading to those current events – school-essay style. Journaling is self-improvement. If nerdy.

Putting pen to paper is also fun. Writing simply makes me happy. Filling pages with beautiful ink colors is joyful to make — and to share with pen-friends. Adding cards and supportive notes from my partner convert my journals into artifacts of my life. My notebooks are now artifacts filled with what is important to me. A record of how my head and heart changes over time.

And this week, journaling simply didn’t happen.

The cavernous, echoing lack of writing on these pages

Work was exhausting – and rewarding. I was booked from 7:45 am until 4:30 pm Monday through Thursday. Nearly all of this time was spent “actively on.” Meeting with students and helping them revise their research. Running said presentations in front of the school, as facilitator and discussant. Teaching three ways simultaneously: to those in the room, to those connected remotely online, and asynchronously to international students who can’t be present during class time due to time differences. Draining.

By the evenings, I struggled to complete sentences. I fell asleep before 9:00 pm four of five nights. My journal sat unattended.

As I sit at my desk, drafting this post, I’m struck by the many feelings I’ve had about my lack of journaling. Guilt at missed entries. Worry that I’m journaling wrong. FOMO with not having new writing to share online. Relief that my journaling notebook is undated, and so need not have blank pages.

But the joyful parts of keeping a journal aren’t regular or scheduled. My favorite parts of journaling are simply sincere: self-care, self-improvement, and enjoying writing itself. So long as my next entry is sincere, I haven’t “messed up.” There is no right or wrong way to journal because success is measured in the joy of stationery and thinking.

My thoughts and experiences from last week have no expiration date. They’re fair game for my next entry. I haven’t missed any journaling. So, I choose forgiveness for days not spent writing; and my next pen to journal with.

This week’s Inked Tines update includes my most recent currently inked writing tools.

Toolset

Pens. The Pilot Custom Heritage 912 (SF) was the runaway standout combo this week. A narrow F line, witha SF nib soft enough to lay down a true European F line when desired. Caribbean Blue offers healthy haloing and subtle sheen, even with such narrow lines. Made tedious notetaking joyful. That’s a victory. Lecture notes (accent), reading notes (accent), scratch notes. 3/4.

::wink::

• Monteverde Giant Seqouia (EF SIG) — 1/5. The SIG grind was too sharp for quick writing tasks or notes – even with the nib’s generous feed. Slag Grey dried quickly, without shading. A reliable, if unexciting, combo. Daily driver. Task management, meeting notes, reading notes, scratch notes.

• Sailor Pro Gear (Z/A) — 1/4. The EF side of the Zoom nib grind worked well for detailed accent notes. Sakuranezumi sits in the goldilocks zone: bright enough to skim easily and subdued enough to avoid distraction. The Architect surprised as a great highlighter. Excellent for reading notes and accenting meeting notes.

• Kaweco Sport (F) — 1/4. The Sport is made to be a pocket carry. The F is stingy, laying down an EF line. Warped Passages flowed without issues. A great pocket carry all week long. Scratch notes, meeting notes (accent).

• Franklin-Christoph 45 (B SIG) — 1/2. The B nib and wet Skull & Roses are a glassy pairing. Buttery smooth, in stationery-blog-speak. Perfect performance on Tomoe River and Cosmo Air Light papers. Sheen helps keep S&R readable at odd angles. Well suited for lesson plan outlines. Meeting notes (headings), lesson plans.

• Mythic Aeschylus (EF) — 1/2. The combo of an EF line and a large pen makes me smile. Excellent marking and editing pair. Go-to pen for lists throughout the week: narrow line, fun shading, flawless performance. Notes, manuscript marking, reading notes (accent).

• Lamy Safari (B) — 3/4. Intended as a journaling combo. The B was too broad for most of the week’s detailed notetaking. Sat mostly unused. One lesson plan, journal entry, discussant notes for the week’s research presentation panels.

Notebooks. Work bujo. Hobonichi A5 Plain Notebook. Fourteen new pages, ending at 110. Two pages house the weekly task management and scheduling spread. All written with the Monteverde and Slag Grey.

I prefer grey or black ink for my weeklies. Color – well, choosing colors — distracts me from getting out of a finished task and into the next. My focus needs to remain on the task themselves and not the list.

One batch of three pages, and another of two pages, for meeting notes from my students’ research presentations. Meeting notes are scrawled quickly. I need to recall what I’m thinking for only the next hour or two. So these notes are “lines optional.”

Lines optional

An accent color highlights notes I want to share out as feedback at the end of the presentation.

The remainder of pages are lesson plans and lists to record which students have extensions, or have recommendations coming up.

And a full page of lecture notes from a professional development session. Slag Grey for substantive notes. Caribbean Blue for accent notes, and for marking tasks that I need to handle following the lecture.

Journal. Unbranded A5 Cosmo Air Light. One.

You read that correctly. I wrote one page in my personal journal this week. Rest up, sweet Cosmo Air Light notebook. I aim to visit you again this coming week.

Written dry. All seven pens survived the week. Nothing to see here. Next week though: next week should see plenty of action.

Newly inked. No newly inked pens this week. I stuck with the original seven. And they served me well.

The collection

Incoming / new orders. No new purchases or arrivals. I’ve begun saving in anticipation of the (hopeful) return of pen shows.

The prospect of a new Narwhal is tempting. Never say never.

Outgoing / trades or sales. My Parker Vacumatic continues to sit in my bookcase. It’s packed up and ready for shipping out to the west coast for repair.

Currently reading and listening

Fiction. Three more chapters down in Sanderson’s Rhythm of War. Kaladin continues to stormlight himself into and out of trouble. Page 90.

I also started digging into Jim Harrison’s Songs of Unreason again. Harrison is a poet I can re-read over and over. Especially during challenging weeks like this one.

Nonfiction. Quite a lot of reading this week, both for myself and for work.

23 pages of John Yilek’s 2018 History of Norway. My students are covering the convergence of industrialization and debates over which values will count as Norwegian in the mid-1800’s. It’s a lot more exciting than it may sound.

I finally finished with Cervini’s The Deviant’s War. Deviant’s War is a thoughtful history on an important – if troubled – figure in the push for LGBTQ human rights in America. May serve best as a reference. The winding narratives make choosing one standalone chapter students can read challenging.

All told: a full Blackwing Natural lays, well-used, in the margins of Cervini’s book. Finishing a pencil lends a second layer of accomplishment to wrapping up reading a book.

Music. Death Cab for Cutie’s classic Transatlanticism has been on repeat most of the week. I’m writing this sentence while Tiny Vessels plays in my ear. Mellow vocals and repetitive instrumentals make for a happy writer.