I’ve started my mornings by writing in my journal, almost on autopilot. Even on the days when there’s nothing to say — which happens a lot. At 6 a.m. my mind is usually quiet. I don’t write down my dreams since I seldom remember them; they tend to show up later in the day. My sleep is deep. I’m painfully slow in the morning, and I need time to come back to this world. Writing helps with that.

Sometimes I wonder if, while I sleep, I’m traveling “home,” and waking up I find myself back here. Have you ever felt that?

However, this is not going to be a post about my nightly travels. Rather, I wanted to share the benefits of writing your thoughts down, first thing in the morning. Writing without editing.

Creating is much more than simply producing something pretty; it’s a way of bringing the unseen into the seen. Creative expression often reveals what we are yearning for, what we value, or what we are healing. It’s a mirror of our inner world. For example when journaling a dream life, painting a serene scene, or writing poetry of love/abundance – this act of imagination can be seen as manifestation. When we create, we manifest.

I noticed while free writing early morning my mind is not as dense and occupied as it would be during the day or the evening. Still, I think journaling has its benefits at any hour, but I find there’s something magical about the early mornings. Before the day starts pulling us in different directions, the mind feels less distracted, more honest, more raw. The words don’t need to sound pretty, and they don’t have to carry some deep revelation. The purpose is simply to let them out.

The idea of morning pages comes from Julia Cameron’s book The Artist’s Way. It’s a book I highly recommend anyone who wish to live a more creative life. The aim is to write three pages, however, some days I write half a page, others one page, and some more than three. On occasion, I even pick it up again in the evening. It really depends. I’ve never been one for rigid structures, I’d rather move with the flow.

One of the reasons I began morning pages was to hear my own voice again. It had become buried under so many outside distractions, that I could no longer tell which thoughts were actually mine. But through this practice, I found myself being more at peace again. More connected to my own emotions, and more in tune with myself. And even on the days when I only write a couple of sentences I notice how, little by little, my own voice starts to blossom again.

I want to be inspired by the outside world, however, it can easily become too much. Too much nonsense. Simply too much. I long for my own voice to guide and inspire me, for it alone carries the lyrics I was born to share.

How do you inspire yourself?