Two Years Later: My Bullet Journal Journey

Back in January 2024, I wrote about my fascination with bullet journaling and junk journaling — the aesthetics, the creative possibilities, the relaxing feeling of designing spreads and adding stickers and die cuts. At the time, my journals were mostly unused, and I felt guilty for not having the time to commit to them.

A year later, I’m happy to report some progress: I finally found the time to create a bullet journal that I consistently fill in every month. I’m now in my second year of journaling, and the difference is remarkable.

I’ve learned what works for me: which spreads I actually use, which decorations enhance my pages without overwhelming them, and what I want to track versus what I can skip. My design has improved, I’m more intentional about my layouts, and I’ve embraced the balance between aesthetics and functionality. It’s no longer a source of guilt — it’s become a creative habit I genuinely enjoy.

Looking back, I see the first year as a learning period — figuring out what I wanted, what I could realistically do, and how to integrate it into my busy life. This year, journaling feels like a reward rather than a task. It’s become my little corner of calm and creativity amidst a busy schedule of work, travel, band activities, and family life.

Bullet journaling has shown me that even small, consistent efforts can grow into something meaningful and beautiful. And while I still admire junk journaling, I’ve found a rhythm that works for me — one page at a time, one month at a time, and with a lot less guilt along the way.

When the Office Feels Uncertain

There’s a different kind of quiet that settles over an office during a round of layoffs.

It’s not the normal hum of focused work. It’s the quiet of uncertainty. The kind where conversations get softer, inbox notifications feel heavier, and everyone seems to be wondering the same thing without saying it out loud.

This week, several people I know were let go. It has impacted our local office directly. Last year’s merger brought together two companies with overlapping roles, and now it appears the organization is trimming duplicated positions. From a business standpoint, I understand the logic. From a human standpoint, it’s harder to process.

Layoffs create an invisible tension. You find yourself wanting to keep your head down, avoid attention, dodge every possible “bullet.” There’s an instinct to hide — to just do your job quietly and hope your name never comes up in a conversation you’re not part of.

But here’s the hard truth: hiding doesn’t actually bring peace.

What it does bring is anxiety. It shifts focus from doing meaningful work to self-preservation. It makes you question your value, replay conversations in your head, and measure every interaction.

The reality is that mergers often come with restructuring. Duplicate positions are reviewed. Roles are evaluated. Decisions are made in rooms most of us will never sit in. And while it’s easy to internalize those decisions, they are rarely personal.

Still, that doesn’t make watching colleagues pack up their desks any easier.

Moments like this force you to reflect. On your contributions. On your adaptability. On your resilience. They remind you that while job titles can change, your skills, experience, and work ethic travel with you.

Uncertainty tests us. It reveals whether we will shrink or steady ourselves.

Right now, I’m choosing to steady myself.

To keep showing up.

To keep doing good work.

To support the people still here.

To trust that whatever happens next, I am capable of navigating it.

Because while layoffs may be outside my control, how I respond to them isn’t.

And sometimes courage isn’t loud. Sometimes it’s simply continuing to show up when the ground feels shaky.