Sometimes, we need to look back to see how far we have come.
I don’t think I have regretted many things in my life. Even the decisions that did not work out taught me something, and I believe many of my setbacks helped shape the person I am today. Somewhere along the way, certain things had to happen for other things to become possible.
But if there is one thing I regret, it is not documenting my life more consistently over the past five years.
I know I have grown significantly during that time, and I often wonder what I was thinking back then. I wish I had something tangible that could show me how my thoughts, priorities, and outlook changed over the years.
I wanted to see on paper how someone who once struggled to navigate her own city eventually became confident enough to fly to New York City alone. That kind of growth did not happen overnight. It came from many small decisions and experiences that gradually became part of who I am. But because the changes happened slowly, I did not always recognize them while they were happening.
The Small Wins in Ordinary Days
We often measure progress through major milestones: a new job, a promotion, a move, a relationship, or a trip. But when I began writing about my ordinary days, I noticed how many small wins I normally overlooked.
Sometimes, what feels mundane today was something we could only dream about a few years ago. Living independently, becoming comfortable in an unfamiliar place or handling something differently than we would have before. Eventually, these things stop feeling like achievements because they simply become our normal life.
We are usually so focused on the next goal that we forget to recognize what we have already achieved.
Journaling gives us a record of those moments. We may not notice ourselves changing from one day to the next, but when we look back after several months or years, the difference becomes clearer.
A Low-Commitment Way to Journal
I wanted to start documenting my life, but I also knew myself well enough to make it realistic. I did not want journaling to become another task that required several pages every day. I wanted something simple and low-commitment, just enough space to record what happened, what I was thinking, and something I wanted to remember.
That was how I discovered the Hobonichi Five-Year Journal. Instead of giving you an entire page for each day, it gives you a small section for the same date across five consecutive years. You write a few sentences today, then return to that same page a year later. Eventually, five different versions of you are sitting beside each other.
I love the idea!
But because the physical journal was a little expensive, I wanted to test the system before committing to it. So I created my own version in Notion.
I originally created the template for myself, but I decided to share it for free in case anyone else wants to try the five-year journaling system before committing to a physical journal. You can make a copy here: Five-Year Journal
A Conversation Through Time
Through brain dumping, I noticed how much time we can spend worrying about circumstances that exist only in our imagination. Those concerns feel real in the moment, but years later, many of them have been resolved, forgotten, or replaced by outcomes we could not have predicted.
This became clearer when I tried a writing exercise involving three letters: one to myself today, one to the person I was five years ago, and another to the person I will be five years from now.
When I wrote to my younger self, I remembered many of the things she used to worry about. From where I am now, I could finally see what she could not see at the time. Many of those experiences eventually led her to the life I am living today.
That exercise made me wonder what it would have been like to read her actual thoughts instead of trying to reconstruct them from memory. What did she believe about herself? What did she think her life would look like? What was she worried about? What ordinary things made her happy?
I can no longer create that record for the person I was five years ago, but I can begin creating one for the person I will be five years from now.
The Life Between the Highlights
I already have Instax photos and digital pictures that preserve many of the highlights of my life. They remind me of the places I visited, the people I met, and the experiences I considered important enough to photograph.
But photographs do not always capture what happened between those moments. They do not show the ordinary routines, changing thoughts, or small decisions through which most growth happens. They capture where I was, but not always who I was becoming. That is what I want this journal to record.
Five years from now, I want to remember more than my major accomplishments. I want to remember the ordinary days too: the things I enjoyed, the worries that eventually passed, the goals I was working toward, and the small wins I almost failed to notice.
The purpose is not to write something meaningful every day. Some entries may contain an important realization, while others may simply record what I ate, watched, or did. Over time, even those mundane details may become meaningful because they belonged to a version of my life that no longer exists.
Growth rarely happens through one dramatic transformation. More often, it happens gradually while we are busy living.
As James Clear, author of Atomic Habits, wrote:
“Journaling provides the opportunity to learn new lessons from old experiences.”
And I think that is exactly what I hope to do.