I began journaling when I was four years old. I remember going to this little shop that smelled like candy and my mom bought me a little pink journal with a dalmation puppy on the front cover.

I drew pictures and dictated words to my own personal secretary, my sweet mother. How are mothers always so inspired? With this one simple action, she seemed to have a premonition of the writer I would become and the journaling practice I would come to value as priceless. And as I know my mom will read this for she continues to be my #1 fan, I just want to say a heartfelt thank you.

More than 30 years later, I have filled dozens of journals and I have a whole cupboard dedicated to holding them.

But what is my journaling ecosystem?

I have written my way through many different journaling practices, and the one that works the very best for me, is simply this: I keep one journal for everything.

I’ve tried separating things into different topical journal before—one for ideas, one for gratitude, one for daily schedules, one for capturing my day, one for my scripture study, etc., but I just keep coming back to only using one journal at a time. It’s just the way my brain is wired, I suppose.

That being said, I still label each journal entry with a title so someday when I finish digitizing all my entries, they can easily be sorted into categories. (Speaking of digitizing journals, one day I will have all my journals typed and printed in bound books. They will be called: The Unabridged Journals of Jamie G. Johnson).

At the beginning of each journal, I write the topics/titles and then when I pick up my journal to write, I have all my options in one place.

Currently, my journal includes these titles and topics:

• The Wandering Quill - morning pages and brain dumps

• Field Notes or Day Sketches - all the lovely day’s happenings, often done in the form of a free-verse poem

• Sacred Insights - notes and impressions from my scripture study and church services

• Gathered Blessings - an ongoing gratitude list that I love to write on Sundays to prepare my heart to partake of the Sacrament

• Prayers & Promptings - questions on my heart and personal revelation I receive from Heavenly Father

• The Idea Garden - creative ideas

• Notes to Self

• Dream Pages - all my hopes, dreams, and plans for the future

• Book Notes

• Poetry Practice - for when I get in the mood to craft a poem

• Seasonal Atlas - plans to do, enjoy, and accomplish for the season ahead

• Love Letters - letters to home, to people I love who have passed on, and to my future and past selves

• Today’s Gentle Way - daily plan

Maybe these thoughts have sparked in you the desire to try or recommit or continue your own journaling practice. The beautiful thing is, there isn’t one right ecosystem. Find the way that lights up your heart and carve out a few minutes a day or a week or a month to write. And one day, you will pick up your journals and realize you are holding one of the greatest treasures on earth.

Much love,

Jamie G. Johnson

As I’ve shared before, writing is such an integral part of my being that I can’t imagine life without it. But there was a time last year when I almost gave it up entirely.

Without going into specifics, I had been hired by a company to write children’s novels. But book proposal after book proposal was being rejected and no one in the company could explain to me why. Have you ever played, “Guess what the teacher is thinking?” This was a classic example of just this. And though they provided some group training, it felt inadequate for my needs. I just couldn’t read their minds. I began to question my abilities as a writer despite the fact that they praised my writing skills. I began to lose not only the desire to complete the project, but the desire to write at all because it was too triggering. It spilled out even beyond writing—to watching movies and reading books as well. Anything that had any semblance of story triggered my anxiety to a level of panic attack. I battled these feelings for months and eventually came to the point where I was about to turn my back on everything that had made up my identity for my entire life. But the mere thought of abandoning my writer’s life gave me a severe identity crisis. My whole world was crumbling beneath my feet and I felt powerless to stop it. This may sound dramatic, but it was an extremely terrifying time for me.

Chronic stress + being asked to do a writing project that felt so completely out of my league + anxiety and depression = a perfect storm.

Fear was driving me to leave a vital part of who I was, and if I dismembered this part of me, could I ever recover? What would be the point of my being? Of course I have a wonderful family and my faith, both of which give me purpose, but without writing, I felt completely lost.

To top it all off, my health had been declining for 2 years and by last fall I was only able to drag myself out of bed for the morning hours, work for one hour, help the kids with a bit of homeschool, eat lunch, and then collapse on my bed to fall into an exhausted sleep until it was time to make dinner. This wasn’t normal for me. I was experiencing adrenal fatigue, migraines several times a week, and a host of other issues.

Enter my wonderful husband who encouraged me to seek some professional help. His counsel quite literally saved my life. First, my mental health medication needed to be adjusted. Second, he encouraged me to visit a friend who offered homeopathic services in the form of bioscanning. Third, being a physical therapist, he offered me daily massage to relieve my pounding headaches.

Just 3 months later, January 2026 had rolled around and I was changed. My healing journey continues, and I am growing stronger every day.

As soon as I climbed out of the pit of despair and came back to the land of the living, I began reading Julia Cameron’s iconic book, The Artist’s Way. It was my husband’s gift to me for Christmas—a book I’ve been wanting to read for 14 years but never felt the time was right. This year, it was right.

And as I’ve worked through the weeks (I’m almost done), my writer self has slowly been reborn from the ashes of 2025’s burning. And now I think I’ll claim the phoneix as my writer self’s spirit animal.

So here I am. Writing regularly both short articles and long-form books that will one day be published.

I used to have only one writing project going at a time, but sometimes I wonder if that contributed to my anxiety. Especially with the novel writing that triggered this whole mess to begin with, I only had the one project I was working on. Because when you have all your eggs in one basket, if that basket drops, sometimes you feel like you’ve cracked along with all of the eggs.

This little metaphor led me to create a different method of writing, something I like to call “The Several Basket Method”. Let me explain how it works.

The Several Basket Method

Instead of putting all your creative energy into one basket, metaphorically speaking, you put a few eggs in one, a few eggs in another, and a few eggs in still another. I used to blog, write books, and write Instagram posts in addition to my part-time job. But my part-time job had become so time-consuming, that all my creative energy was reserved for this one basket only. So when this basket dropped, my life fell apart.

But now, I’ve restructured my daily and weekly rhythm so I can put some of my creative energy into substack posts, some into my poetry book, some into my memoir, some into my memoir-in-essay books, and then some into the books I’ve been hired to write. With several projects going at once, I find the projects renew my energy and even revitalize one other. Each project nourishes the others, and I, in turn stay sane. Now, if one basket drops, I pick up the broken eggs and grieve a bit, but then turn my focus and creative energy to a different basket.

This practic is simple but it’s essential in reminding me that I’m still a writer and there is still hope. Perhaps it could help you too…

xo,

Jamie {the 2-acre poet}

My first written words weren’t really words at all. As a three year old, I had seen my mom write beautiful cursive, and one night, I decided I was going to write too. I found a spiral notebook and a pen and seated myself on the kitchen carpet next to the desk where my parents were going over their budget and bills. Opening to a blank page, I clicked the black ball point pen on, and began “writing.” When I had filled each and every line on the page with continuous loop-de-loops that resembled cursive “l’s” all connected into one long line of curlicues, I proudly showed my parents. “Look! I can write like you!” I said eagerly. I had no idea that my page was filled with mere scribbles; I actually thought I had written a page full of words. My parents looked up from the bills, smiled, and congratulated me. That was the night my love affair with writing was born.

Being an author was the first real, heartfelt job I put on my list when people would ask me what I wanted to be when I grew up. Prior to that, my preschool ambitions included the careers of astronaut, ice cream truck driver, ballerina, and pizzamaker—in that order and all at the same time. But the day I decided to be an author, everything else faded away.

I wrote for school, I wrote for fun. My first writing contest attempt was about a secret trap door that opened to a land of magical unicorns. I sent it in, but never heard back. However, my 5th grade poem about chickadees made it’s way into a national bird magazine, and my 10th grade essay about my 5th great-grandfather won a statewide essay competition, winning me $500 which I later used to buy my fiance’s wedding ring. That contest gave me an inkling of hope that I did indeed possess the gift of writing, and with hard work, could hone it even further. This essay was especially empowering, due to the fact that after turning it in to my Honors English teacher for revision, she wrongfully accused me of plagiarizing my family history book. (“Because what 16-year-old uses words like embark?”) By the end of the school year, though, she had seen a fair sampling of my work and apologized for her accusation. She even wanted to nominate me for the English Sterling Scholar award, which I would have gladly pursued had we not moved across the world to Portugal. In 11th grade, I transferred to independent study college courses while living in Portugal, and my History teacher told me my essay writing surpassed his college-aged students.

And yet, in college I studied Elementary Education, because an author wasn’t “a real job.” Or so I thought. I filled my need for writing by filling journals, and starting a blog in 2008 all about our family adventures. By 2009, me, my husband, and our two little boys under two were all living in a dark basement apartment surrounded by black lava rock walls and windows so small they were definitely not up to code. It was there that I started a small little blog called “Quest for Happiness,” because living there in that dark place made me want to chronicle my search for happiness in less-than desirable circumstances. Over time, the blog deepened, evolving into a place where I could notice and write about faith, peace practices, and all the small and simple moments. Wanting to expand my writing topics outside the realms of “happiness” posts, I called my blog, “Writing in the Stillness” and it was my refuge for many years. Eventually this blog was rebranded into a wordpress website with my name to further expand my umbrella of topics: jamiegjohnson.com. My website is still there, up and running, but I write from substack now as I try to stay current with where writers need to be.

Several years ago, I was hired by a homeschool company to write curriculum. To date, I’ve written Language Arts, Science, History, and Music Appreciation curriculum, and been commissioned to write a middle-grade novel series. The jury is still out on that one though. With the exception of a novel I wrote for my children one Christmas, and published privately through Barnes and Noble, I’m not much of a fiction writer. My heart lies in the world of personal narratives and essays, poetry, non-fiction, and memoir.

I guess that pretty much brings me to today and the long-held dream to write and publish inspirational books. (Note: I’m learning that the genres of book I’m inclined to write are those of poetry, memoir, and the memoir-in-essay.) To publish a stack of richly meaningful books would be one of the great pinnacles of my life’s work. But as I’ve mentioned in a previous post, I’ve put all these books on the shelf for more than a decade because, I can’t pursue the fulfillment of these deep desires until the stars align, right? That’s the rule my subconcious has steered by. I need to have the perfect cottage in the country surrounded by dozens of acres, and every day freely stretched out before me like a blank canvas of pure liberation with absolutely no expectations or responsibilites to attend to—and then I can write. (Which after writing this out, I can see how ludicrous this unspoken, undefined belief has been).

But this year has changed all of that. I sat on the couch in the stillness of a Sunday morning and tried to figure out how to stay committed to writing. I’ve tried to pull my books off the shelf before, but they inevitably end right back where they started—gathering dust. But on that beautiful January morning I realized that all I really needed to gather momentum for my writing was a container for—a special time and place in which to write. And thus, my Author’s Nest was born. I selected a special spot in my room where a green velvet chair is tucked into the corner. Here I would feel nestled and secure. The next task was to create a makeshift desk. A quick search on Amazon revealed little lap desks with price tags I didn’t want to pay for. So my husband and I went on a hunt and found the perfect little lap desk in our garage. Fashioned from a wood shelf from an old bookcase, I washed it and rubbed in lemon oil. Lastly, I added a little candle (but usually end up blowing out because my mischievous cat won’t stop pouncing on it…there has been singed fur and splattered wax on two different occasions.) And with that, my Author’s Nest was complete.

I have this painting hanging on my wall that has always spoken to me. She’s me. I’m the little girl who has been writing for as long as I can remember. But I’m also the little girl who has finally released the caged bird who has been longing to sing her song. And so I gaze at this painting before I begin writing each week and remind myself that I am reclaiming the little playful author girl inside by letting my beautiful songbird leave her cage and sing while I write her song. My Author’s Nest is my home for not only my writing, but my sweet little writer girl and her songbird.

I’m still trying to become the writer I’m meant to be as I sift through the mountains of material that wants to be written, but at least now I’ve created a permissiom slip to write by feathering a small and simple nest for my inner writer.

1. try a different microphone.

2. not go full-screen with my slides since that obviou…

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Are you ready to give yourself the most special gift of all—precious, uninterrupted time to write what your heart has been longing to pen? Get the full details here:

Note: only paid subscribers will be able to join the retreat ($5 per month), so if you haven’t yet upgraded your subscription, you can do so below. I can’t wait for you to join!

P.S. Please reach out to me if money is an issue. I want everyone to be able to have this opportunity, so don’t let money stand in your way of your writing life.

xo

Jamie

If yesterday’s post had you longing to start weaving a writer’s life, but ultimately unsure of where to fit it in, I can’t wait to share with you something I’ve been working on for a long time.

Introducing…

Paper & Stardust — A Monthly Writing Gathering

This is for the women who would love to go on fancy, expensive writing retreats so they would actually make the time to write, but they’re in the throes of real life — caretaking, mothering, nurturing, women who are trying to snatch a few minutes to write at the kitchen table or trying to squeeze creativity into the limits of everyday life.

This could be the most special thing you do for yourself all month—gift yourself an hour long online writing retreat with me. A retreat so magical that it almost feels like we’re gathering in person.

If I’m honest, I have alwasy fantasized about moving to Europe and finding a little Beatrix Potter-ish cottage out in the countrside or in a quaint flat in the charming streets of an old town, with the scent of freshly baked bread wafting through my window. Then I could write all the things that have lived in my heart all these years. Have you ever had a writer’s fantasy?

But the truth is, if I wait for my perfect house and my perfect landscape and the perfect season of my life to start writing, I will never become the author I want to be—I may never even write a single word. Every day that we tell ourselves “someday I’ll write” is a day we’ll never get back.

With all that being said, I believe it’s time for a Writer’s Revolution. Let’s all sing this manifesto—that we aren’t going to wait any longer for the stars to align. We’re going to write right now!

Once a month, we’ll meet by sunlight or lamplight or candlelight…just to write.

I’ll teach you how to feather your author’s nest and create a place you can tuck yourself into in order to bring forth the words that have been waiting to fly.

Nothing fancy. No pressure. No critique.

Just women, notebooks, and a quiet hour to write.

We’ll settle in cozy blankets and hot cocoa (or the drink of your choice). I’ll offer a small way to weave your writer’s life, give you a gentle prompt to open the creative door, and then we’ll write together in peaceful silence — side-by-side, even though miles apart.

Paper & Stardust is for the woman who wants to turn, “Someday I’ll write,” into right here, right now. This is someday.

Come as you are.
Messy desk, tired heart, half-formed ideas and all.

Bring your paper. Bring your stardust. And together we’ll write.

xo

Jamie

P.S. For the price of an ice cream cone, you can join the Paper & Stardust Writer’s Retreat each month. {Just $5 per month or $50 per year.} And if money is an issue for you right now, please reach out to me. I want to make this accessible to everyone who would like to join.

P.P.S. I have a special download for you when you upgrade your membership.

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For those of you who have a story you’ve always longed to tell, or words you’ve always hoped to write (which should be all of us because we all have a story in our hearts waiting to shine), then this post is for you.

How long have your words been waiting to be written? For me, it’s been years. And this is the year that I finally decided to commit to writing the books that have been living in my heart. And for the first time in my whole life, I’m finally making some progress.

But back to my original question: how long has your story been waiting to be penned? It’s not too boring. It’s not too ordinary. You don’t even have to feel like you’re a great writer (that’s what editors are for)! But no one else can tell your story because no one else has had your life experiences and no one else can write with your unique voice.

Plus, in a world that seems to grow dimmer by the day, we need more storytellers who are brave enough to bring just a little more sunshine into the world. Think of what the world will be missing without your beautifully bright story-light.

I know it’s hard to commit to writing in a society that favors a fast-paced, hectic lifestyle. But as you know, here, we are trying to live The Gentle Way, the road less traveled. And writing our words and sharing our stories is one of the ways we can choose to slow down and embrace a gentler lifestyle.

If you argue that you can’t write until your kids are grown, or the laundry is done, or work slows down, I hear you. Those were my excuses too. We’re always waiting for the perfect time, for the stars to align, for this in-between place to settle into normal life. But I’ve realized after 38 years of life, that ALL OF LIFE IS THE IN-BETWEEN. We never really arrive. We’re always striving, growing, improving, moving along the path of life. So if we wait to write until the in-between is over, we’ll never write because that time will never come.

Are you ready to stop waiting for the perfect house or a move to the country or the perfect circumstances to finally start pursuing your writing dreams? Let’s weave a writer’s life together one step at a time. I’ll walk beside you every step of the way. Promise.

Stay tuned.

Tomorrow I’ll be popping in to bring you all the details of Paper & Stardust — which just might prove to be the key you’ve been waiting for to stop saying “someday” and finally start writing. :)

xo

Jamie

I’m planning to test something new and gentle for our retreats: instead of waiting for the seasons, I’m thinking of offeri…

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Dear You who so desperately wants to have life all figured out and go according to plan,

This used to be me too. But I have reformed…(as of this morning haha). Let me explain…

Here we are on our last day in California. My purpose for this vacation was 4-fold. First, to support our extended family at a baptism in Nevada. Second, to get away from winter for a week and travel to sunny California (which, wind advisories have made us stay inside more than we’d have liked, but according to my sources, we are finally getting snow back home—bittersweet). Third, to create treasured family memories: driving through Joshua Tree National Park, listening to audiobooks, playing card games, starting the craft of punch needle embroidery, making family friendship bracelets, collaging journals, playing Jackbox, making meals together, reading books, playing pool, and going on walks through the desert landscape—which, I am most grateful to say, have all happened. And fourth, to rest and recharge so when we go back home, we can rally around our oldest boy who will need all the support and prayers we can give. We’ll pick him up from the airport the day after we get back. After serving valiantly for 6 months, going above and beyond in every way as a missionary, he needs specialized care from doctors for some health issues he’s experiencing.

This wasn’t his plan, nor ours. But it was God’s. If my missionary had it his way, he’d probably be on a mission his whole life. You know when you get the feeling that your child was born to do something—like so perfectly suited for something that it’s almost like it was written in the stars of their DNA? That’s my Easton. He was made to be a missionary. And so the past few months have been heartbreaking as we’ve watched him suffer and stay cheerful; suffer and keep working; suffer and having faith that by some miracle he would be healed. It’s right for him to come home, but it’s not easy to accept when you have your life planned out in a way you think is best.

On a smaller scale, I like to have my days and weeks and months planned out in a way that I achieve all my goals, but time has a way of coming in like a dust devil to swirl up my best-laid plans and rearrange my life in a different tapestry than I’d imagined.

I don’t claim to have the answers to our constant lack of time, busy days, and interruptions. But I do know Someone who can help. When I try to slog through my days on my own, it doesn’t always work out so well. I either make an elaborate checklist and get discouraged when I can’t check everything off, or I boycott the checklist in order to stay more open to service opportunities and go with the flow, then get swept down the current of a scattered day.

But God is great enough to help with all of that. He says in Jeremiah 29:11 - “For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”

Today, for the first time in quite a while, I took all my tasks, undertakings, and endeavors to my Heavenly Father and asked Him to teach me the plans He has for me today. With the Divine finesse of the Great Creator, He picked up all my pieces and put them together in a magnificently-created mosaic. Then He solved my lingering dilemma: to plan or not to plan. It isn’t either/or. It can be both and He showed me how.

He can teach us the plans He has for us and how to craft each day/week/month/year/life in the best possible way, while also giving us the grace to stay open to the Spirit’s promptings and adjust when unexpected moments come.

Let the Lord prevail. His Divine guidance can make all the difference.

xo,

Jamie

Just a few notes:

1. Send your “heart-to-heart” questions to hello@jamiegjohnson.com and I will share my small and simple thoughts on a future episode.

2. Right after I recorded this episode, I was reminded of a beautiful quote that would have tied in so well with this week’s episode. So I’ll give it to you here as a P.S. :)

   “All of us can have a new beginning through, and because of, Jesus Christ. Even you. These new beginnings can happen every day!
   Jesus Christ is the Author and Finisher of our faith, writing countless new chapters with us. Please receive your new beginning, even today, right now.”

   ~Patrick Kearon

“And now I say unto you that the good shepherd doth call after you; and if you will hearken to his voice he will bring you into his fold, and ye are his sheep; and he commandeth you that ye suffer no ravenous wolf to enter among you, that ye may not be destroyed.”

-Alma 5:60

“The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name’s sake. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me. Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.

-Psalm 23

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Autumn Writer's Retreat

If it happens to ask you for a passcode, use this one: Tc6AsL

If you can’t make it live, no worries, I will record the meeting and send it to you afterwards to watch at your convenience.

Love,

Jamie

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May the ball and chain that clings to your leg,
cumbersome and unwieldy,
slow your steps just enough to fall into the grace and embrace of the Eternal.
He who waits unbroken and rooted
with a weightless yoke—custom-tailored, chiseled and smoothed
to perfectly fit the contours of your shape.

Go to the places where you can hear His voice without so much world-static—
Go to the mountaintops
Go to the temples

There, may you join with Him
to find sanctuary
and sustenance
A gentle tutoring of celestial ways,
high roads and holy paths.

Every seed you have tenderly planted can verdantly bloom on these lush and fertile journeys,
the soul safaris that ignite your precious light.

Love, Jamie

P.S. I am planning an Online Writer’s Retreat for Autumn. It will be on the first day of fall, Monday, September 22. I’d love for you to join me. Click below to become a member and support this work, and I will see you there.

Can you see, looking back, how all things have worked together for your good?

How the broken kernels of wheat were pounded and mixed and shaped into bread?

How the farewell of sea tide now reveals the treasures of sea glass and sea shell?

How the deepening darkness brings moon glow and lamplight, stillness and cricket song?

How the fragment of torn cloak can be repurposed into a pieced-together quilt of remembrance?

Truly, every time you cross the threshold of the hard, you are on your way to finding the holy.

The other day we read this scripture verse as a family:

And then Patrick asked the children, “Where is your favorite holy place to be?” The answers were beautiful—the temple, home, church. But then Cooper spoke, and I wasn’t expecting his answer:

“My holy place is wherever you are, Mom, because you’re my holy place.”

I would never have guessed he’d say that, not in a million years. To think that someone sees me as their holy place. Me with all my imperfections and flaws? It really made me pause. Do we realize just how much influence our light and love can have? I hope I can be more intentional in creating a presence where others feel welcome, loved, and cherished. And I hope you know how brightly you shine just by being you.