DawnLines: A Gentler Morning Journal Routine
The idea of three pages... seems too much, first thing in the morning. I started wondering if there might be gentler on-ramp into brainfulness...
For when morning pages, intentions, and goals are just too much.
It took a long time for my Marine Corps wake-up ability to fade.
It annoyed more than one morning companion over the years. See, for a long time I didn’t have that interim muzzy space between sleeping and awake. Sure, I no longer jumped out of the rack, er, sorry, bed, standing at attention, but I was annoyingly alert and ready to go much faster than my partners, my kids, and occasional co-workers for early morning meetings.
Those days are over.
Now I get up just as slowly and mumbly as anyone. I move slow, I think slow, I even — well, that would be TMI, but trust me, everything is slow in the mornings.
Which is why lately, even though I’m very pro “Morning Pages” (in the style of Julia Cameron), it’s been hard to actually do it. The idea of three pages — even if we’re allowed to fill them with nonsense, even if it won’t be seen by anyone — just seems too much, first thing in the morning.
I started wondering if there might be gentler on-ramp into brainfulness in the morning. I wondered what a sketcher, a hand-letterer, a scribe might do instead of hyper productive word-vomit on the three pages.
And this is the papermancy I came up with: DawnLines.
Before I explain it, one thing to get clear: it doesn’t have to be at dawn. I just came up with this in a dark November in Wisconsin, so as it happens, it often is accompanied by rosy fingers on the horizon.
Like all papermancy, begin by simply touching your tools. The firm support of the notebook cover, the table. The texture of the paper and the sound as you move it into position. The way the pen becomes first an extension of your hand as you grasp it, and then an extension of your mind as you uncap it and prepare to make marks.
The DawnLines Ritual
This is not a personal log.
It is not a to-do list.
It is simply letting this new day touch your awareness, gently.
I. Waking the Hand.
Let your hand wander.
A quick sketch. A ribbon of lines.
A shape that isn’t anything yet.
No drawing skill needed; in fact, try to focus less on what you see and what you feel as the ink flows on the paper, what you hear as the paper accepts whatever you give it.
Your brain knows you’re awake, but you’re not asking anything of it.
There’s no rush.
II. Three Noticing Breaths
Not goals, not gratitude.
Just three breaths and three quick notes of what you notice this morning.
No judgement. No commentary.
The morning brain fog slowly clearing and revealing the shape of this day.
On November 21, I wrote:
- The cat is purring.
- The clock is ticking.
- I scratch my beard.
Mundane is fine. Magical is fine. Just what you notice after each of these first three intentional breaths.
III. Quiet Kindling
When you try to kindle an ember, you don’t chase it. You tend to it. You nurture it.
That’s what this final step is. Just one sentence.
Not a task. Not an “intention” or “theme”, and definitely not a command.
More a companion. A feeling. A shape that you’d like the day to have.
Don’t rush. When it comes it will feel like you are slowly lifting your face into warm sunlight.
- Deliberate movement towards joy.
- Slow is smooth. Smooth is nice.
- Breath is the place of centering.
Unconsciously cognizant
I probably could find a lot of psychological and traditional methods about morning rituals that would support this papermancy ritual, but I don’t think I have to. If you try it, and it works for you, great! In fact, I’d love to see your DawnLines if you want to share them - tag #dawnlines and I’ll find them.
I’ve found that it’s a much more easy way to go into work, morning pages, or whatever the day’s going to bring. It may be because rather than forcing my brain to produce something, I’m just listening to what’s there already — sort of meeting myself where I’m at.
Enjoy! And if you want to know more about the upcoming Papermancy workshop, send me a dm or email me at gray@creativegray.me .
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