Transcription
Hello. So, most of you, maybe even all of you who are watching this video, probably found me through my interstitial journaling video. The fact that that one reached so many people, I'm still a little shocked, but also genuinely grateful. Thank you for being here.
Really, a lot of you told me that the video was helpful, and some of you said that you've been doing a version of this for years without having a name for it, which I loved hearing, but there were also some points that felt unclear for some people. Not questions exactly, more like points of confusion or moments where you weren't sure how this actually works in real life.
In the first video, I mostly talked about the method. I showed my notebook, but I didn't really show how I use it moment to moment. So, this video is a follow-up, not to complicate the method, but to make it more practical and hopefully easier to understand and use. Today, I'll answer some of the common questions that people left on that video, and I'll also show how I use interstitial journaling while tackling something I personally find overwhelming.
So, the task I picked for today is my wardrobe. I've been wanting to organize it for a very long time and I haven't been able to start. It's one of those tasks that just lives in your head as too big. Even though logically, you know that it's not that serious. I am not organizing my whole wardrobe today. I already know that that's unrealistic for me. I'm doing one shelf and that's it. And please don't judge the mess.
Now, this is where interstitial journaling starts. I take my notebook and the first thing I do is not plan. I don't motivate myself. I don't hype myself up. I simply ask, "What did I just do?" And I write that down with a time. Then, if I want to, I add context, not because I have to, but because it helps me. This part is important. I'm not shaming myself or forcing positivity. I'm just naming what's true.
Then I ask the second question. What is the smallest next step that I can tolerate? Not the whole task, not even organize the shelf, just the next physical movement. And I write that. Open the wardrobe. That's it. Then I do that. I open the wardrobe. And then I write again: opened the wardrobe.
So this part of my wardrobe is basically made up of old clothes, home clothes, some random pieces that I never wear, small items and things I just shoved here to get them out of sight. A little hiding spot for them, which means it gets very, very messy. I probably should get rid of a lot of it, but that's not today's task. Today, I'm just going to organize and fold everything and that's it.
Now, the next tiny step becomes obvious. And I do that. Great. Lovely. Then we start folding. At this point, something usually happens. Once I'm a few minutes into the task, my body is already moving and the task is no longer theoretical. So I often just stop writing every single step and just continue. Finished. I also dip the shelf below. Why not?
And when I'm done, I come back to the notebook. And then I mark the transition. Next, get a snack. This helps my brain close the task and move on without drifting.
So the other question was, when do you write, before or after? And the short answer is both. You write after you notice that you've arrived somewhere physically or mentally, and before the next tiny action if you're stuck. You're not really documenting your life. You're just creating bridges between moments. Where's my snack?
Another question was, how do you know what to do next? I think this question comes from the assumption that interstitial journaling is some kind of planning system. It's really not. You don't need to know your whole plan and you don't need to think ahead. Actually, trying to figure out everything in advance is usually what makes things harder, especially if you already struggle with starting.
When I write an entry, I'm not asking myself what should I be doing with my life right now. Most of the time when I write down what I just did, the next step becomes obvious on its own. If I write "sat down in front of the wardrobe," then it's pretty clear what comes next. I don't need to plan it. I just see it. And if I don't see it, that's also information. It usually means the task still feels too big. So, I make the next step smaller.
And there's no pressure to get it right. If the next step you wrote doesn't happen, it's fine. You just write again what you actually did and from there you find the next tiny step, and that's the whole loop.
And a couple of people asked where my notebook is from. I honestly don't know. I got it from a tiny local shop for very, very cheap and it has no brand name. And actually, the notebook doesn't matter. Don't get influenced by me to buy some new notebook that looks like this. What does matter is accessibility. I recommend something small because it's easier to keep near you and it feels less intimidating to actually use. But you can also use a whiteboard or a big sticky note on your fridge. You can write in a notes app or write on your laptop if you're there all day. I personally do this on my laptop very often. Just the same method, different formats. I actually recommend trying different ways of doing it, adjusting, and then dropping parts that don't work. This only works if it fits your brain.
Another question was, do you write a to-do list? Not really. I don't make a traditional to-do list because my brain tends to rebel against them. What I usually do in the morning is more like a brain dump. And that's not a list that I have to obey. It's just me emptying my head onto the page so that it stops buzzing. And during the day, tasks naturally emerge from that.
And another thing a couple of people said was, "I don't switch tasks. I procrastinate. I can't start." I guess this is the most important part. If you can't start, don't start by trying to start. Start by writing what you're already doing. For example, "watching YouTube videos about cats." I know I'm avoiding starting my task. Then ask yourself, what is the smallest thing I could do next? Not start the task. Something smaller. Maybe it is next: "Open my notebook." Then you do that. Then you write: "opened my notebook." That matters because now you have proof that you did something. You moved. You are capable of movement. From there, the next tiny step becomes visible. This is how it pulls you out. Not by force, but by momentum.
If your phone is already in your hand, do it there. If the notebook is near you, use that. Reduce friction as much as possible.
So the core of interstitial journaling is this. You write down what you did. Even if it feels stupid, even if it feels tiny, even if it is something unproductive, seeing evidence of action changes how your brain perceives itself. Then often, but not always, you add one tiny next. Not for every entry, not perfectly, just enough to keep moving.
If this method helped you, I'm really glad. If parts of it don't work for you, that's okay, too. Take what helps and leave the rest. And if you want, tell me in the comments how you adapted this for yourself. Thank you for being here and watching this video. And I'll see you next time. Bye.