Three Pages Before the Noise

There's something magical about the quiet moments before dawn. While the world still sleeps, wrapped in blankets of silence, I find myself drawn toward a ritual that has quietly reshaped my mornings and, in subtle yet profound ways, my life itself: the practice of morning pages.

I stumbled upon morning pages while reading The Artist's Way by Julia Cameron, intrigued by her promise of unlocking creativity through this simple daily habit. Rich Roll's glowing endorsement of this ritual in his book Finding Ultra further piqued my curiosity. Encouraged by their experiences, I decided to explore this practice myself.

Initially, I approached morning pages sporadically, dipping into it without much commitment. I struggled with consistency, finding myself frequently distracted by digital methods like typing on my laptop or scribbling on my iPad, neither fully resonating nor creating the space of tranquility I craved. Yet, when I finally gave it the seriousness it deserved, on simple pen and paper, something remarkable happened. Writing three pages of longhand, stream-of-consciousness thoughts each morning became more than an exercise—it became a cleansing, almost meditative act. The quiet scratch of my pen gliding across the page, the warmth of coffee in my hands, and the crisp pre-dawn breeze became part of a sensory ritual, grounding me firmly in the present. It felt as if I was gently sweeping away the mental clutter, creating space for clarity, creativity, and introspection.

Admittedly, there were mornings when I faced the dreaded blank page, paralyzed by uncertainty over what to write. But I learned to trust the process, allowing myself to scribble anything—even "I have no idea what to write"—until my subconscious relaxed and genuine thoughts began to flow onto the page.

Beyond stimulating creativity, these early morning journaling sessions cultivated a sense of peace and fulfillment, a feeling of accomplishment long before the day had fully begun. It's a form of self-care, a gentle yet powerful ritual that nurtures both mind and soul. I understood what Rich Roll meant about the mornings when he wrote:

The series of behaviors you engage in first thing each day sets the stage and mood for how the rest of your day will play out. If you approach this precious time with mindfulness, it will focus your intention, marshal the day’s energies, improve how you navigate challenges, enhance your interactions with others, and bring a Technicolor hue to your life experience.

Over time, recurring themes emerged from my writing, quietly illuminating insights into my thoughts, fears, dreams, and aspirations. Gratitude frequently surfaces as a theme. Sitting on my deck, listening to the soft chorus of birds waking up, watching as the first hues of sunlight paint the sky, I'm gently reminded of life's abundance and beauty. This practice has attuned me to the simple joys often overlooked in our hurried lives, nurturing a deep appreciation for being fully present.

Though Cameron’s concept allows flexibility on when to write, I've found early mornings to be particularly sacred. There's an irreplaceable tranquility in these pre-dawn hours when distractions fade and uninterrupted streams of thought can flow freely. Perhaps this serene solitude is precisely why they’re called "morning" pages.

Of course, life's unpredictability means there are days—or weeks—when mornings slip by without this ritual. I give myself grace during these periods of my life. The key is to come back to the ritual, as many times as necessary, without giving myself a hard time about it. I've noticed that, on the days where I don’t start with this peaceful journaling ritual, I am less at ease. Perhaps due to the subconscious clutter I did not release in the morning, taking up space in my mind.

If you're considering exploring morning pages, dear reader, my encouragement is simple: just begin. Avoid perfectionism and self-judgment; allow your thoughts to flow naturally. Tomorrow morning, as you sit down with your pen, ask yourself gently: "What clarity or insight might I uncover today?"

You may discover, as I did, that morning pages gradually become an essential, cherished anchor in your day.

Until next week,

Ric.