October Welcome – Live Well and Breathe Hatteras Island.
Messy-beautiful everyday notes.
I’ve never been good at journal writing. I’ve always loved the idea of it—capturing my deepest thoughts under lock and key like those secret diaries we had growing up, or documenting my adventures in one of those beautifully bound travel logs.
Then came the rise of blogging and self-guided journals—complete with prompts promising to lead you down the path of enlightenment (of which there are many). I wasn’t much better at those either.
And yet, journaling does have its benefits. According to AI, the top three wellness perks are:
- Stress relief & emotional clarity
- Self-awareness & personal growth
- Improved mood & mental well-being
(Bonus: Journaling can also boost problem-solving and goal-setting by helping you organize your thoughts and track progress.)
My reality? I now own plenty of lovely lined notebooks with artsy covers and a few half-hearted bullet journals. Most contain scattered attempts at new-year beginnings, random doodles to try connect the dots, and… lots of blank pages!
What works for me is far less polished: a small, not-so-fancy pocket notebook from DG (because let’s be honest, DG really is the center of the universe here on the island). Inside are my endless to-do lists—now evolved into my “Power 3: Do-Do-Don’t List” (more on that another time). There are scratchy notes, oodles of doodles, crumpled receipts, weekly $5 cashback vouchers, and the seeds of ideas for these monthly welcomes. It fits the pace of my life—sometimes orderly, often chaotic—and it’s freed me from the pressure to write something profound on every page.
And here’s another truth: in its own way, starting the blog and Facebook group Hatteras Island Wellness Connection, has become my journal. Now, almost three years in, I’ve arrived at my 30th entry. It hasn’t always been easy to stay motivated or accountable, but it’s become a record of what’s been on my mind, what’s sparked my curiosity, and what’s shifted with the seasons here on Hatteras Island.
Maybe that’s the real heart of journaling, and everything we set out to do—not perfection, but presence. Not a grand manuscript, but random thoughts and lots of small notes along the way.
Photo credit: Andrea Piacquadio