Is bullet journaling the ultimate distraction from death?
The first installment of our guest essay series!
A few weeks ago, we asked members of the community to pitch their own stories for this newsletter, as we want to hear from more voices and broaden our own perspectives. Our first guest essay is by Lee Tilghman, a writer, copywriter, and creative strategist living in Brooklyn. She identifies as an “ex-influencer” and has had many forms of blogs. In her free time, Lee can be found walking her dog, cooking, reading, or sitting in a park.
Want to write for us? If you want to pitch a guest essay idea for the newsletter, read this guide and email our editor, Taylor Majewski, at taylor@askdiem.com.
Walk into any kitschy, curated shop in an upper-middle-class neighborhood, and amongst the ceramic mugs, 70s-inspired horoscope keychains, and coffee table books, you will find a selection of agendas. Artfully splayed across the shelf, these beautiful (and oftentimes handprinted) notebooks come in different colors (solid, pastel gradient, jewel-toned tiger patterns), with a style for every personality type.
As you stand in the store and thumb the crisp, small-batch pages, you dream of the possibilities. What would life be like if you were a “planner-person”? How good would it feel to color-code your day? Are you missing something by not recording your daily, monthly, and yearly goals?
Extreme journaling is a growing sector of the paper products industry. You’ve seen the bullet journals that wistfully break down your life into page-sized diagrams. The pages that fit intention trackers, mood graphs, workout schedules, and career vision tables.
How beautiful, how sweet, how analog, how…controlling?
Obsessive journal-keeping, especially bullet journaling, has become a perceived requirement for living an intentional life. But have we become so meticulously intentional that we’re getting distracted from living life itself? Sometimes, I feel that extreme journal-keeping is a magnified example of our human tendency to optimize, track, and control our destinies. When everything seems out of control, this type of journal-keeping can be seen as comforting.
The diary, agenda, and planner industries are projected to be worth 1.3 billion by 2028. But I’m not throwing all journaling under the bus. For what it’s worth, I’ve been keeping journals since middle school. I recorded breakups, new love interests, teen desires, mid-twenties wishes, and travels across the globe. A journal has always been like a secret friend to me, a non-judgmental figure who I can confide in before I even know what I’m trying to say myself.
But I have a relaxed relationship with it. I don’t write in my journal daily. In fact, I can go months without writing in my journal, and that’s okay.
This past holiday season, I worked at a fancy store with a large selection of stationery and planner accessories. Pen cases, colored post-its, highlighters in every hue, pens in various millimeter tips. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t get enticed, envisioning myself with all this extra stuff. A cute pair of scissors made to look like bunny ears? A pencil eraser holder? A gold pencil sharpener? A pack of highlights in 10 shades of violet? Yes, I could totally picture myself walking around with a mini stationary store in my tote bag. I’d probably write in cozy cafes on rainy days instead of staying home watching Sex and the City like I normally do. Maybe I’d start sketching people on the subway. Or maybe I’d become a detective like Harriet the Spy.
But then I’d be at the register, and my dreams would be shattered. I’d see so many customers pick up these items, sometimes spending $150 or $200 on agenda-related organizational systems. “THIS is going to be my year for bullet journaling!” they’d tell me. I could see the fervent want in their eyes.
I’d watch the customers walk away with their newfound goals; they wanted to track their food, their dreams, their water intake, their sick days. As I watched them walk out of the store and into the cold New York City streets, I thought about how these items, meant to bring us closer to ourselves, were only distracting us from the gravest fact that we cannot change: our imminent deaths.
We don’t like to think about death. Not only does our culture markedly reject morbidity, but death is also the antithesis of journaling. We can’t erase it and re-pencil it in for a later date. We can’t track it or report it on a graph. Agendas are hopeful, optimistic, and future-based. As we jot down our to-dos and mark off our vacations six months down the line, we feel empowered and in control (not to mention, there are even studies that show planning a trip can be more rewarding than the trip itself).
If there’s one thing I’ve learned in this life, it’s that planning is fun and all, but you have to leave room for life to unfold. Have you ever heard the motto, “When you plan, God laughs?”
Some believe it’s morbid to think about their deaths. I, however, think it’s just smart planning.
As always, I’d love to know what you think… do you journal? Is bullet journaling another way we try to control the uncertainty of life? Join the conversation in Diem, here.
What we’re reading…
👏 Women have reclaimed ambition—now let’s reframe it (Meena Harris for Marie Claire)
🚗 Women are less likely to buy electric vehicles than men. What’s holding them back? (The 19th)
📱The TikTok hearings inspired little faith in social media or congress (The New Yorker)
👀 Gentle parenting is too gentle (The Cut)
Till next time,
Emma
co-founder, Diem
PS! ICYMI! A better way to socially search is here! Test Diem AI with your own “taboo” questions or contribute to other Diemer’s conversations here. Let’s show how valuable “gossiping” can be.
PSA: Diem AI is available on web only, not in-app (yet!) and it’s best experienced on a desktop 🔥
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