Most of us are carrying more than we realize—stress we haven’t named, pain we haven’t processed, thoughts we haven’t had time to untangle. And sometimes, the help we need isn’t a big dramatic breakthrough. It’s something simpler and more sustainable ... like journaling.

Now I know: this isn’t a new idea. It’s been recommended in therapy sessions, recovery groups, and self-help books for decades. But many of us still don’t do it consistently—because it feels awkward, or too time-consuming, or maybe just unnecessary. 

So let me encourage you: if journaling hasn’t become a regular practice for you, maybe it's time to start. 

Why? Because it works. In more ways than you might expect.

A study from Harvard Business School found that people who journaled at the end of the day improved their performance by 25% compared to those who didn’t. Why? Because reflection is what turns experience into wisdom. As John Dewey put it: 

“We do not learn from experience… we learn from reflecting on experience.”

Researchers at Cambridge found that people who wrote about traumatic or stressful experiences—even just 15 minutes a day—experienced measurable improvements in both physical and emotional health. 

Another study from the University of Arizona showed that journaling helped people heal and move forward after divorce.

Psychologists often recommend journaling not just as an exercise in catharsis, but as a way to re-integrate emotionally. It gets us to slow the swirl of thoughts, untangle the emotional knots, and start making sense of things that felt overwhelming. 

As New York Times writer Hayley Phelan once put it: 

“One of the more effective acts of self-care is also, happily, one of the cheapest.”

But this goes deeper than just data or studies. Journaling reaches something essential in us—something at the level of our soul.

You’re writing for yourself—no audience to impress, no need to "say it just right," or censor your true thoughts feelings. This is where you work things out, where you meet yourself with honesty, and maybe even meet God in the process. It’s a place for spiritual grounding and emotional clarity—a space to tell the truth, without needing to tidy it up.

So write. Write about the little frustration that got under your skin today. The email that stirred up shame. The story you keep telling yourself that might not be true. Write about the pain that still lingers from a past hurt. About the person who let you down. About your hopes, your confessions, your fears.

No filter. No performance. Just you and the page.

As the artist Eugène Delacroix once wrote in his journal: 

“My mind is continually occupied in useless scheming. ... I am taking up my Journal again after a long break. I think it may be a way of calming this nervous excitement that has been worrying me for so long.”

Tim Ferriss echoes this sentiment: 

“I don’t journal to ‘be productive.’ I don’t do it to find great ideas… I’m just caging my monkey mind on paper so I can get on with my day.”

That’s it. That’s the gift. Journaling lets us lay down what we’ve been carrying—without needing to solve it all at once. It gives us perspective. It calms the storm.

Think of it as "spiritual windshield wipers," as Julia Cameron called it. A simple habit that clears the clutter and helps you see the road ahead.

Maybe now is the time to pick up your pen -- or laptop -- again.