Two weeks ago, I read Ryder Carroll’s book The Bullet Journal Method.
I’ve been using bullet journals for years at this point. Not the pretty art-pieces that you’ll find on the internet, full of scrolling calligraphy and Washi tape, but a series of beat-up journals that are filled with messy handwriting and scribbled notes. Notebooks with no interest in being beautiful objects, but plenty of practical use as a tool. I picked it up around 2012, after being impressed by the way my friend Kate Cuthbert organised her work at Harlequin Australia.
Ten years of relatively consistent bullet journaling is a long time. Over the years, I’ve gotten large chunks of my family into the habit — there’s often a family Leuchtturm shop around the end of the year. I’ve experimented with different approaches, from one dedicated bullet journal for everything to bullet journal by project to bullet journal by context (writing/work/life). I’ve researched and experimented with layouts and approaches, and found stuff that really worked for me (elements of Tobias Buckell’s hacks and showrunner John Rodgers hacks have both been useful).
All of which is really a prelude to saying I wasn’t expecting much from Ryder Carroll’s book. I picked it up because the Bullet Journal method has been a lifeline for me in recent years, and I wanted to throw some cash his way for sharing it so freely back in the early days, but I worked on the assumption I knew what I was doing.
Turns out, not so much.
Going back to basics on bullet journaling after a decade of using the system has been an interesting experience, because there’s a certain amount of drift. You cleave to the practices that are easy and useful, and let other parts fall by the wayside.
Going back to basics—with a more detailed explanation of why they’re in place—proved to be a transformative experience. There are three big tips that have wildly changed my relationship with my bullet journal notebook, but the biggest has been recommitting to my daily log of activities and making notes.
The log, in my experience, is one of the first things to go as people get familiar with the Bullet Journal system. It feels less transformative than indexing and threading, which change your relationship with the contents and thought processes. The value of rapid logging your day is easily overlooked—certainly, for the last few years, I’ve been more likely to implement a daily plan than a daily log.
The Bullet Journal Method convinced me to give logging another try, and it’s value was proven in the weirdest of places—giving our cat medication.
Some backstory: we’d been giving The Admiral pills because the poor kitten has a UTI and some teeth issues, and for the majority of that time my spouse, Sarah, has been our designated pill delivery person. Not that I wouldn’t try — I’d give it a go every morning — but my first few attempts were unpleasant for me and the cat, and Sarah would step in and take over in order to avoid distressing The Admiral further.
Fortunately, Sarah had some insight into what I was doing wrong, and would give me a tip after every attempt. Unfortunately, since the pills happen right before I started work, those tips would ordinarily get lost in the sudden transition from “home Peter” to “work Peter”, with slow (or no) improvement.
The cat’s illness coincided with the recommitment to logging, and part of that meant jotting down every event—work tasks, books started, giving the cat pills — and one or two notes about the experience.
So instead of letting things fall out of my head, every bit of advice Sarah gave me got logged and reviewed. I made my own notes, critiquing each attempt, walking through each step until I figured the point of divergence between concept and practice. I’d create notes to supplement that advice with my own research, hitting up youtube and web pages.
And it only took a few days for a task that I would have flailed at for a week, giving into the option of learned helplessness, to become something I could wrap my head around. Admittedly, right at the end of our three days of giving tablets, but there’s now a record of thinking through and correcting all my mistakes to review the next time I have to do it.
The same philosophy’s started to spread through day job tasks, and publishing tasks. Projects that had stalled for months started to pick up speed, both because I was thinking about them with more clarity, and because taking notes gradually led to building system.
Logging’s become a habit worth keeping over the last two weeks, and one that I’ve stuck to far more consistently than other journaling habits.
That said, it comes with challenges: I’m used to a standard bullet journal lasting me between three months and a year, depending on what I’m doing (faster while researching a PhD, slower when working for places that have their own project management systems). Logging and note-taking on this level is chewing through pages far more quickly than I’m used too, and it’s conceivable I’ll go through a notebook a month if I stick with the rate of pages-used-per-day that I’ve run with over the last two weeks.
On the plus side, I’ve got a *lot* of blank notebooks, but I can see a future where I need to think really hard about how they’re all going to get stored once they’re filled.
In the meantime, The Bullet Journal Method‘s a recommended read if you’re interested in trying the BuJo out or revisiting the foundations. Trust me when I tell you there’s more to get out of it than you’d think.
