So I tried it out.
Behold, the impression of complexity was just a phase. When I started creating my modules and went on with my daily logs (including my notes of feelings and ideas and late-blooming teenager-y angst lol), I got hooked.
It was January. Now, six months later, my humble, tattered bujo is ready to be shelved. It is filled to the last page.
I cannot say I’ve been super-productive the whole time I was using the bujo system. I can vouch, however, for its service as a life organizer, a soul mirror, an aide-memoire.
So what’s so great about keeping a bujo?
- You can progress through the journal logically (that is, from page 1 then 2 then 3 and so on). No need to segment the book into various sections (except the index). This is important to me because I dislike blank pages, which are a waste if not filled in. The logical progression also makes for easy navigation among the pages. And if you get lost, then there’s the index for you, bud.
- A physical — and I mean tangible — manifestation of my thoughts is kind of…romantic and esteem-boosting. It makes you think you’re writing a book, or leaving an artifact for the historians of 2200 AD.
- It strikes between final and tentative. Final because your pen’s ink isn’t erasable — and tentative because, hey, you can still strike through your mistakes! It’s forgiving, and it’s how we should be to others and to ourselves, too.
- There’s something charming about creating your habit trackers or monthly log at the end of each month: it’s a continual call to begin again, to be young once more, somehow.
- It’s organic, duh. You can burn your bujo and leave nothing in the environment except ash, which symbolizes the transience of life and the supremacy of the soul. Bam!
If you’re interested to know more about bullet journaling, head on to bulletjournal.com. Don’t let the fancy designs on Pinterest intimidate you. You can keep your bujo minimalist like I do. Freedom and simplicity is the name of the game: do what works best for you.