The Moment You Begin

Sometimes, beginning doesn’t look like doing anything at all.

Sometimes it looks like holding something.

A notebook held against your chest. A pen resting in your hand. A pause before the page is opened.

Nothing has been written yet — and that’s the point.

There is a moment, often very quiet, when you feel the weight of what you’re carrying. Not in a dramatic way. Just a sense that something inside you wants space. You might not know what it is. You might not have words for it. You just know you don’t want to rush past it.

That moment truly matters.

Beginning doesn’t start with writing the right thing. It starts with noticing. I often think to myself “Hold, notice, and note”. With choosing to stay instead of turning away. With holding the notebook long enough to feel that it belongs to you.

The blank page isn’t asking you to perform.
It isn’t testing you.
It isn’t waiting to see if you’re good at writing.

It’s simply there.

You might begin by drawing a small shape.
Or writing one honest word.
Or pressing the pen to the page just to see how it feels.

You might not write anything at all at first.

That still counts.

The moment you begin is not about courage in a loud way. It’s about a quieter kind of bravery — the kind that says, I’m willing to pay attention. Even if only for a minute. Even if you don’t understand what you’re feeling yet.

Holding the notebook is already a choice.
Opening it is another.
Writing even one mark is enough.

You don’t need to feel ready. You don’t need to feel confident. You don’t need to know where this will lead. The beginning is simply the moment you stop rushing and allow yourself to be where you are.

That’s how journaling begins.
Not with answers — but with attention.

And that is more than enough.


You’re welcome here with a notebook and pen, an open mind, and whatever feels ready to be explored.

— Hannah

    • Hold your notebook for a moment before opening it. What does it feel like to hold it right now?

    • Make one small mark — a word, a shape, or a line — to show how you feel in this moment.

Mrs Hannah Marshall

I’m an author, illustrator, and journaling mentor. My work shares storytelling and reflective practices shaped by a lifelong relationship with journaling — an invitation to slow down, listen inward, and meet life with courage and kindness.

https://mrshannahmarshall.com
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The Hero’s Journey and Your Own Life

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Why I Believe in Journaling