A Month of Morning Pages

Every day, I am frustrated that I have lost momentum on this blog. I look at the number of articles I publish every month and I hang my head when I compare my output to that of when I first arrived in Korea. However, I have actually been writing more than ever, just not on this blog.

A few weeks back, in one of my favourite digital newsletters written by comics writers Kelly-Sue deConnick and Matt Fraction (which you should definitely subscribe to here), I was introduced to morning pages.

What are morning pages? The concept could not be simpler. Sit down soon after you wake up, while your body is still rousing itself, and write three A4-sized pages of stream-of-consciousness writing by hand. No more, no less. You never have to look at them again after you’re done. They are intended to be impermanent, fleeting glimpses into what you are really thinking and feeling, etched down before your mind has put up its defenses. Kelly-Sue deConnick praised how the simple act of writing three pages every day calmed her and gave her a grounded beginning to each day. I thought that it was something worth exploring.

I thought that such writing would spout forth ideas for future creative projects. As it turns out, I have used this morning ritual to clean out my mental cobwebs, almost like a journal. I rant about what happened the previous day. I set out my plans for the current day. I generally muse about whatever I’m thinking about in the bleary-eyed hours of the day. In my first full month of habitually doing morning pages, I have only had one creative session. It was a reflection on the beauty of Seoul and people in the early hours of the morning. Apart from that, the chicken-scratch-etched pages like those in the featured image above have largely been filled with mundanities.

I too have found them to be immensely calming. They allow me to get my bearings for the day, vent any residual frustrations, make more concrete any ideas I might have had in the night. On the days when I do them when I am more awake, I find that they are harder to write and less effective at guiding me.

All in all, I am excited to continue spewing my morning self onto paper. The process can take between 20 and 40 minutes, depending on how well my mind and pen are flowing, but it is time well-spent. I highly recommend trying it out, even if only for a couple of days. Buy an A4 notebook from your local stationery store. Get up when your alarm sounds in the morning, and spill your soul onto the blank pages. You might be surprised at what comes out.