And the pages are still blank.
They have no lines.
Seeking a Boundary
I went into a minor panic when I opened my new journal and saw those really blank pages. I opened and closed it again and again as if I could do it just right and make the lines magically appear.
I was pushing against an edge that made me very uncomfortable.
I like lines. Boundaries. Boxes.
To cross. To push. To expand.
I did not like this journal.
It’s not just about the journal.
But it was before dawn, I was on vacation in an unfamiliar place, and I wanted to write.
Stepping Out of Bounds
So I began to fill the stark, blank pages.
At first, the words were aligned so precisely, it’s as if the lines did exist and they vanished as I wrote.
Given the opportunity to expand beyond a boundary that didn’t really exist, I acted as if it did.
Where else does that show up in my life?
If this journal is really a tool sent to help me learn to work outside the lines, then, by golly, I would go as far outside them as possible.
I drew pictures.
Pictures that still crack me up, because they look like fake versions of what a three-year-old would draw. Not necessarily my inner three-year-old, just some cliché version of kids’ drawings.
I had abandoned the boundaries and pushed so far beyond the edges that I created something inauthentic, something that didn’t reflect me.
It’s about way more than the journal.
So I wrote some more.
Finding a New Framework
And ever so slowly, I began to move beyond those invisible lines.
A few columns here. A sketch there. A couple of mind maps.
A word or phrase circled in red. Purple. Green.
A series of small, subtle changes over time and I’ve outgrown the lines, the boundaries, the same old box.
I already bought my next journal.
It doesn’t have any lines.
And it opens from the top.
Ready to start pushing some of your edges? I can help.
To find out how, email me to schedule a free, 30-minute check-it-out call.