Seneca, Ben, Jordan, and Everyone Who cares About You Are Begging You To

In 12 Rules for Life, renowned Psychologist Jordan Peterson outlines how people are generally better at caring for their pets than they at caring for themselves. The introduction to the relevant chapter is funny, but also sad, as he outlines how people will diligently medicate their dog exactly as prescribed but fail to respect the doctor’s orders with respect to curing themselves. Why is this? Peterson proposes that, far too often, we question our self-worth. We are painfully aware of our flaws. The chapter then takes a lighter tone and outline how we have a spark of the divine in us and that it is only through self-respect and genuine dedication to order – in our lives, and the world – that we can set things straight. In brief, only putting the oxygen mask on ourselves first can we reliably assume all of our responsibilities.

Oddly enough, it is this obligation to others – in my case, to my children – that drew me into daily journaling. Before that, spending time with my thoughts felt like a selfish pursuit. Even if it only takes a few minutes to read a daily prompt, reflect, and jot down a few points, that’s time you’re not helping your spouse with household chores, not packing the kids their lunch, nor doing one of umpteen tasks clamoring for your attention. However, the truth is that you owe it to your spouse and your kids to reflect in this manner. Not allowing yourself a meditative or reflective practice of any sort is akin to not taking your medication.

I stopped discounting the value of journaling once I realized that I needed to be a better parent. In fact, it came about almost by accident. I noticed that my kids were exposed to two different parenting styles. One parent was very high in love and care, with small but consistent almost daily dose of frustration with any poor behavior. The other was noticeably patient and encouraging, however, any frustration that was suppressed was just that – pushed down. And when patience ran out, there was full-fledged volcanic eruption as the coiled-up negative emotions busted out. I found the unpredictability of the latter parent disturbing. I’d like to think that the rarity of his blowups would make it acceptable, but could only imagine how shocking this could be to a toddler.

My remedy, was a simple Excel spreadsheet. Daily points. 5 demerit points for a small expression of frustration, 10 for blowing a fuse. On the other side of the balance sheet were positive moments with the kids. 1 point for an hour playing board games, 1 point for an afternoon bike ride, 1 point for a full day of skiing. Credits were hard to come by. The goal, stay in the positive, get out of debt fast when you fall into the red. It’s kind of silly, nothing more than points on a spreadsheet, but it worked. Simple accounting – I was accountable to me. The premise made sense, I had noticed beforehand that overwhelm and blowups happened less when my wife was around. That was partly because we had four hands to handle two little ones, but mostly because there was another adult in the room that would tell me that my emotional control was hardly better than the kids. Begrudgingly deducting points from myself daily increased the gap between stimulus and response. I’m not perfect, there is still plenty of Irish in me, but I began to be able to stay in the black.*

This little scorecard convinced me that there was something to the idea of a daily check-in. I remembered that the Stoics encouraged one to journal. I was impressed with the simple and effective daily account of the great American statesman Ben Franklin. He essentially asked himself if he was the person he aspired to be each day.

Obviously, I liked daily reflection so much I hoped my daughters will do so to. I want them to journal to get in touch with their authentic self, to live a meaningful life, and most of all, to improve their character. Fittingly, my Stoic Virtues Journal was made with an adult version of them in mind. It begins with a dedication to them. I quote a famous WWI poem by John McCrae. And in case it’s only clear to me who the foe is, it’s me, it’s you, it’s your ego (A certain Stoic book may come to mind here).¹

But to be completely honest, the work that went into making 365 daily prompts, curating over 1200 memorable bits of wisdom in these two volumes was for also for myself too. It was to hone in on the dozen or so things one needs to do consistently to be who you want to be, to practice the 4 virtues that make all the difference. Ultimately, I want to set a better example and be someone they would want to be around.

Just because I made it, does not mean they will use it. It doesn’t even mean I would use it. I get bored easy, I thought that opening a book with the same page on it, or an empty page would bug me. How many scoff at the idea of a book with no story? But a good journal does have a plot that bounces around. So, I made it so some daily prompts exalt one’s spirit by touching with your core values and deepest wants. I begin with my all-time favorite from Seneca to set this tone. It is not because things are difficult that we do not dare… My hope is that this one serves as a good opening hook. Others will make them aware of potential areas of improvement and ask them what they intend to do about it. This is work – sometimes hard.

This is another great obstacle to journaling. The truth can be a jagged little pill of sorts. It may set you free, but we don’t always want the fight that earns us our freedoms. I think few of us journal because it forces one to think. Thinking is a hard sell in a world where most would prefer to turn on Netflix or scroll to avoid it all costs. I often question my business sense. It would be much easier to sell a product that promises to make you live forever with six-pack abs, a sexy butt, and glowing white teeth. Instead, I offer a discourse with some ancient sages. This can be daunting until we realize that they are proxies, in essence, what we are really doing is engaging in a discourse with a future self or higher version of yourself. Writing down stuff we don’t always want to admit is hard.

But the writing pays huge dividends. As sport psychologist Jim Loehr mentions on the Tim Ferriss podcast, there is something about physically putting words on paper that helps people stick to their commitments and perform at their best. So to me, to journal is ultimately to forthrightly move closer to the version of yourself that you wish you were. By journaling we hold ourselves accountable to that future self (and make that person more vivid in our imagination), and we get in touch with our higher self. We engage in a daily dialogue with them, and thus become the author of our lives (we get inauthentic voices Out of Our Heads, as another popular Stoic book would have us do).²

Those are some damn good reasons to journal. Yet, to be completely honest, as my parenting experience showed me, I might not dare make the effort for me alone, but I will certainly do it for them.

K. Wilkins is the author of:

Stoic Virtues Journal: Your Guide to Becoming the Person You Aspire to Be

Rules for Living Journal: Life Advice Based On the Words and Wisdom of Jordan B. Peterson

1 Ryan Holiday, Ego is the Enemy
2 Andrew McConnell, Get Out of My Head

*I may need to revive the spreadsheet. I’ve noticed that the general patience I have behind the wheel is completely absent as I teach my eldest daughter to drive. I’ve found myself doing a great impression of Mr. Otto when reckless drivers show no patience with the girl with a learner’s permit.