I started a bullet journal for 2019, and so far it’s both one of the hardest and coolest things I’ve tried. I’ve never considered myself artistic- whatsoever, zero percent, definitely not- but I do like lettering and making words look pretty. I know, everyone is extremely shocked right now.
My bullet journal is definitely not the prettiest one you’ll ever see. My lack of skill shows, and so does my lack of confidence. Most things in my journal are ideas from someone else, not originals. A lot of my letters are wobbly and weirdly formed, most of my spreads are decided crooked.
I’m fascinated by mistakes in life and mistakes as a writer. With books, when I realize I’m off track or plotted wrong or wrote five thousand words in the wrong direction, I’m quick to be hard on myself. Sometimes I consider scrapping the project, or writing altogether. I often feel like I should quit, that I’ll never be able to write a good book when all my words look like *this*, or that I was fooling myself to think I could write a book in the first place.
I never feel that about my bullet journal. I don’t like mistakes and imperfections, but I assume they’re part of the process and bound to happen because that’s part of new and different. What I hope to do, as 2019 begins, is help myself transfer this acceptance of imperfection to writing. We will always make mistakes, in every area of life. We can hate them and even ourselves, or we can accept their presence and maintain the lightness of mind to repair them.