Every so often someone asks me a wonderfully simple question:
"What's the best way to get (re)started journaling?"
On the surface, it sounds like a request for a list of effective writing prompts. Fifty prompts. One hundred prompts. Perhaps a downloadable PDF full of thoughtful questions.
When I listened back to this JournalTalk Q&A episode nearly ten years after recording it, I realized that the conversation took a very different direction.
Instead of trying to identify the perfect prompt, my guest, Jade Gilmore, and I found ourselves talking about something much more important.
What makes a prompt meaningful isn't the prompt itself. Rather, the magic lies in learning to find a prompt that awakens something within you.
That distinction has become even more significant to me over the years, especially through my work as a psychotherapist. Again and again, I'm reminded that insight rarely comes from finding the perfect question. It comes from paying attention to our own nervous system.
Why Prompts Can Be So Helpful
Anyone who has kept a journal for very long knows the feeling.
You open your notebook.
The page is blank.
Your mind is blank.
You know writing would probably help, but you have no idea where to begin.
This is where journaling prompts can be incredibly useful.
A thoughtful question, an inspiring quotation, a photograph, a poem, or even a single word can become an invitation to start writing. It lowers the barrier to getting started and gently shifts us from staring at the page to becoming curious about our own thoughts.
Early in my journaling practice, prompts often gave me the consistency I needed to develop the habit of writing. Rather than laboring over the decision about what I should write each day, a familiar prompt gave me a springboard to begin from.
Sometimes that is all we need.
Not the perfect insight.
Just a place to begin.
But Prompts Have a Hidden Limitation
During our conversation, Jade shared an observation that I think many journal writers will recognize.
She noticed that when she focused exclusively on responding to the daily prompt, she often stopped writing as soon as she had answered it.
The prompt became the destination instead of the starting point. I think many of us fall into that pattern.
We answer the question. Close the notebook. And miss the deeper conversation waiting underneath.
A journaling prompt should function much like an on-ramp to a highway. It helps us merge into the flow of reflection, but it was never meant to become the entire journey.
Eventually, our own questions become far more interesting than the one someone else asked.
The Prompt Behind the Prompt
One story from the interview has stayed with me over the years.
During one of the early JournalTalk 30-Day Journaling Challenges, participants received a new writing prompt each day. Most people enjoyed the experience, but a handful of participants became frustrated. They didn't like the prompts. Some found them boring. Others found them irrelevant.
As the discussion unfolded, something important became clear: Perhaps the real prompt wasn't the one that appeared in the email.
Perhaps the real prompt was: "Why did this question bother me?" That simple shift changes everything.
Instead of judging the prompt, we become curious about ourselves. Why did I resist this question? Why did it leave me feeling uncomfortable? Why did I immediately dismiss it? Why did it stir such a strong reaction?
Those questions often lead to richer journal entries than the original prompt ever could.
In therapy, we sometimes notice something similar. The places where we feel defensive, irritated, or unexpectedly emotional often point toward something that deserves gentle attention. Resistance isn't always an obstacle. Sometimes it's a doorway.
Collecting Other People's Thoughts—or Discovering Your Own?
One of the ideas I expressed during the interview still feels important today.
If all we ever do is respond to someone else's prompts, our journals can slowly become collections of other people's ideas.
There is nothing wrong with borrowing questions.
But eventually, the practice becomes much more meaningful when we begin noticing the questions arising naturally from our own lives.
The difficult conversation we can't stop replaying.
The decision we've postponed for months.
The recurring dream.
The relationship that continues to occupy our thoughts.
The unexpected joy that surprised us today.
Life is constantly offering prompts.
The more we learn to notice them, the less dependent we become on finding them elsewhere.
Creating Your Own Springboards
One of the practices I learned through Kathleen Adams' Journal to the Self program has remained with me ever since.
She uses the word springboards rather than prompts. I have always appreciated that image. A springboard doesn't determine where you'll land. It simply gives you enough momentum to begin exploring.
Over the years, I've found that almost anything can become a springboard for reflection:
- A quotation that lingers in your mind.
- A meaningful conversation.
- A passage from a favourite book.
- A photograph.
- A walk in nature.
- A piece of music.
- A question someone asked you.
- A strong emotional reaction you didn't expect.
The important thing isn't where the prompt comes from. It's whether it helps you listen more carefully to yourself.
The Journal Eventually Knows the Way
One of the quiet gifts of keeping a journal over many years is that you gradually become less concerned about finding the "right" thing to write.
You begin trusting the process.
The page has a remarkable way of revealing what needs attention.
Some days you'll write about work.
Other days you'll write about grief.
Sometimes gratitude.
Sometimes frustration.
Sometimes you'll begin with a quotation and discover you weren't really writing about the quotation at all.
You were writing about your life. And perhaps that is the greatest purpose of any journaling prompt. Not to give us something interesting to think about. But to help us notice what our own hearts have been trying to say all along.
Listen to the Original Episode
In this episode of JournalTalk Q&A, Jade Gilmore and I explore the surprising strengths—and limitations—of journaling prompts. We discuss how prompts can help us establish a writing habit, why they should remain starting points rather than destinations, and how even a prompt we dislike can become an unexpected invitation to deeper self-understanding.
If you've ever searched for the perfect journaling prompt, I hope this conversation encourages you to trust something even more valuable: your own capacity for reflection.





