We wait for the right moment to start journaling. A new notebook, a quiet evening, a free hour that never comes.
Here’s a smaller start: one line a day.
Not a page. Not a paragraph. One sentence about today. “Fixed the leaking tap.” “Felt tired but finished the report.” “Laughed with Mom on the phone.”
It sounds like too little to matter. It isn’t. One line takes ten seconds, so you’ll actually do it. And after a month, you’ll have thirty small snapshots of your life that would otherwise have disappeared.
Some nights, one line will turn into five. Let it. Other nights, one line is all you have. That counts too.
The habit isn’t built by writing a lot. It’s built by not stopping.
This week: Before bed, write one line about your day. Same place, same time, seven days in a row.
