How Many Notebooks Are Too Many Notebooks?

On journals, diaries, and writing life.

Hi, how are you? Over here, you can already feel the shift; summer is slowly retreating, and fall has been hot on our heels since last week.

This summer, I did a journaling course through the Toronto Public Library. I’ve been keeping written records on various topics for years, and I was curious to see what a formal course could add to a practice I’ve always done informally and instinctively.

I learned several interesting things. For example, in English, there are two words for what we simply call “diario” in Spanish. Diary refers to a daily log of personal events, while journaling points to deeper, more reflective writing—linked to personal growth, emotional exploration, or even therapy. Studies support its benefits: it helps process thoughts, brings clarity, stimulates creativity, promotes emotional well-being, and reduces stress.

So I asked myself, what do I write—diaries or journals? In Spanish, I always thought I kept a diario. But is there a word in my language for journal? The internet suggested “escritura terapéutica [therapeutic writing]” or “bitácora personal [personal logbook],” but neither phrase carries the same cultural resonance as journal, nor are they commonly used in everyday Spanish. A lot of my North American friends have journals, but none of my Argentine friends have ever mentioned a “bitácora personal.”

Why don’t we have such a clear distinction in the Spanish-speaking world? Could it be because we tend to reflect in community? In Argentina, despite the stigma around mental health, the number of psychologists per capita is very high, and seeing a professional therapist is part of adult self-care. I think we are more comfortable opening up with friends and family. The phrase “Amiga, ¿would you like some mate🧉?” almost always means one of two things: I have juicy gossip, or I need to vent. Maybe what North Americans do in writing, we do out loud in Latin America?

The course made me reflect on my own writing. As a girl, locked diaries were practically a rite of passage. I was expected to fill them with secrets and soap-opera-style drama, but I found them painfully boring and always abandoned them, wondering if there was something wrong with me for not enjoying what everyone else seemed to love. My serious writing began later, during travels, because I wanted to record what I learned and experienced. They were travel diaries, with some reflection, but without the inner transformation I now associate with journaling.

Over time, especially as I moved away from Argentina, my practice changed. Maybe the distance from my community, from the afternoons spent drinking mate and the long university nights eating empanadas with friends, pushed me to write differently. I suppose the North American culture, more individualistic, influenced me, and now I have one diary, two journals, and several other notebooks that are hard to classify:

• JOURNAL 1. Digital, organized by year. I don’t write daily, but at least once a week. It helps me record what’s happening because the mind often confuses, distorts, or mixes things. Writing it down protects me from those tricks and reminds me of who I was when I wrote each entry.

• JOURNAL 2. A red notebook with a gender equality symbol on the cover, which Biko got me as a gift from the United Nations. I use it only at the beginning of the year to reflect on the past and set goals for the future.

• DIARY. Paper, organized by month, where I track habits, physical activity, and things I’m grateful for. At the end of each month, I review what worked and what didn’t, and decide how to approach the next one.

• TASK NOTEBOOK. Basically, daily to-do lists. It’s always open on my desk and keeps me focused on weekly priorities.

• CREATIVE NOTEBOOK. Where I jot down ideas and plans for this blog. It’s full of clippings, scraps, and stickers. I recently started writing in different colors because my grandma sent me a set of pens from Argentina.

• ACADEMIC NOTEBOOK. For notes from courses, talks, and readings. It’s supposed to be more serious, but I love decorating it with washi tape.

• GUEST BOOK. The cover and back feature a world map, and I ask each visitor who stays at our home to leave a comment. We haven’t yet opened the hotel I mentioned in this post, but this guest book is the first step in that direction.

I’ll confess that writing this text felt like a final exam for the course, because it revealed so much about my own practice that I hadn’t fully realized.

I don’t know how many notebooks are too many, but I’m pretty sure I’m not alone in my love for them. Tell me, how many do you have?

Until next time!

Maria Pia

If you came across this newsletter by chance, subscribe to receive my upcoming emails.

If you like what I write and want to help this project grow, you can share A Platypus Life with others.