I heard a few different creatives casually mention doing their ‘morning pages’ over the years and had no idea what they were on about. I didn’t even know it was a thing. But after a recommendation to read ‘The Artist Way’ by Julia Cameron I found out what they were all about.

I didn’t particularly vibe with everything that is said in ‘The Artist Way’. It has a strong focus on creativity as an external, spiritual force and that’s not something I connect with. But several people that I respect had recommended the book so I decided to persevere and follow its advice, as an experiment (it’s good to keep an open mind, right?). So ‘The Artist’s Way’ is a 12-week programme, and I did all 12 weeks.
What I took away from it were three things that give me long-lasting benefits – artist dates, creative affirmations, and morning pages.
Today, I’m writing about morning pages.
What are Morning Pages?
’Morning pages’ are a writing exercise that you are meant to do first thing in the morning, before starting your day. All you need are writing supplies and some time. The idea is that every morning (every morning), you write three pages of your stream-of-consciousness thoughts.
In her own words:
“What are morning pages? Put simply, the morning pages are three pages of longhand writing, strictly stream-of-consciousness: “Oh, god, another morning. I have nothing to say. I need to wash the curtains. Did I get my laundry yesterday? Blah, blah, blah …” They might also, more ingloriously, be called brain drain, since that is one of their main functions.”
That’s all. Nothing more fancy or complicated than that.
You do them every day,
“Morning pages are nonnegotiable. Never skip or skimp on morning pages. Your mood doesn’t matter.”

In her book, Julia says that she felt that three pages were long enough to get fed up with all the negative stuff you need to express and start moving onto something more interesting. I don’t always find that to be the case, but either way they are useful
Why write Morning Pages?
For me the answer is really simple, because they work. I started it as an experiment. At the end of the programme I felt that there was benefit in them, so I decided to try doing them for a full 100 days and see how it was.
After 100 days, I still felt they were useful. That was three years ago; I still write them.
What do I mean by “they work”? Well, for me, it’s like sweeping out a bunch of mental dust bunnies and detritus that fills up my head. It makes my brain feel fresher and makes it easier to come up with ideas, to work through difficulties, and to gather my scattered thoughts.
Some days it doesn’t feel like that’s what happened at first. Those days it can feel like all I did was moan about something, or several somethings, over many lines of handwritten pages. But it did do something. It got all that stuff out of my head. I imagine it like pinning butterflies to card (barbaric, I know, but bear with me). Those thoughts are now out there and not in here and I find that tremendously valuable.
It’s like a cheap, limited version of therapy. Clearly, you lack the relationship and insights from the therapist, but you do have the time and space to freely express yourself, without fear of judgement or recrimination. It’s cheap enough you can do it every day instead of once a week or a fortnight.
Which leads onto the ‘how’ part, because surely, upon reading these back you will experience some judgement or recrimination from yourself?
How do you write Morning Pages?
As said earlier, it is a stream of consciousness writing. Over three pages. Well, what size of pages? Is it three pages front and back, or 3 sides of paper? What kind of margins?
I prefer narrow margin lined paper, and found 3 sides of A4 narrow-margin pages was taking 40-60 minutes (I didn’t even consider 3 of these front-and-back, aka 6 sides). This is time I do not have to spare. So I’ve experimented with different sizes of paper and lengths of writing and I’ve found that 2 pages of narrow margin notebook sized paper (around A5 ish) is good for me. It hits the sweet spot of sweeping out the rubbish and leaving space for ideas without taking too much of my day. It usually takes me around 20 minutes now.
And writing implements? Well, I used to use a pen – my default for handwriting – but having used up every pen in the house (literally), I decided to switch to mechanical pencils that I can refill the leads on. I felt bad with the amount of plastic I was going through eating up so many (non-refillable) pens and that prompted the switch to pencil.

It is also intended as a manual exercise – hand moving across the page – so typing isn’t an option here.
When to write? I can’t do it when I first get up. I have a family and we do family things first thing. I am also not prepared to get up earlier than I already do to do it. So, I write my morning pages as early as is feasible, depending on my schedule. Usually after school drop-off.
Don’t show them to people. These are intensely private things. They are not performative in the least, in fact quite the opposite. For that reason I don’t read them back either, and when I’ve finished a notebook of morning pages I shred them. Don’t be horrified. We don’t feel the need to keep the contents of our dustpan or vacuum, and, for me, this is exactly the same. If any treasures or ideas emerge from the morning pages, I write them down somewhere else, somewhere more durable.
Who is it for?
In her book, Julia says “everyone” and I would agree. I think we all would benefit from clearing the negativity and clutter from our brains and opening up space for ideas. Maybe it’s ideas about what to cook that night, or how to tackle some difficulty at work or in a personal relationship. Even if we don’t work in a creative industry, there is still the need for creative thinking in all walks of life.
So, whatever you path, I suggest you give it a try. Do an experiment, stick with it for 12 weeks and see how you feel.

