– a creative practice for marking the year as it unfolds
For years, I’ve tried to keep a bullet journal.
I loved the idea of it — the neat calendars, the trackers, the promise of reflection — but in reality, I mostly just made the pages. I didn’t return to them, didn’t use them in the way they were intended, and eventually felt quietly guilty about that.
What I’ve realised is that the problem wasn’t reflection.
It was the format.
What I come back to, again and again, is making.
So this year, instead of trying to fit my life into a system, I’m building a creative practice that grows out of how I actually live and work — slowly, visually, and in rhythm with the year.
A spiritual practice, in a practical way
I’m interested in paganism, folklore, and the Wheel of the Year — but in a grounded, everyday sense.
This isn’t about spells, tarot cards, or elaborate rituals.
It’s about paying attention.
It’s about:
- noticing the seasons
- marking effort and rest
- acknowledging endings and beginnings
- feeling gratitude for where I am
This practice sits much closer to mindfulness and gratitude than mysticism — but without the language that can sometimes feel overused or off-putting. There’s no right way to do it, no belief system required, and nothing to keep up with.
The idea: small art cards, made slowly
Instead of journaling every day, I’m making small art cards — roughly one a week — each one marking a moment in the turning year.
Some are tied to:
- new or full moons
- seasonal shifts
- traditional calendar dates
Others are looser:
- pauses
- thresholds
- moments of reflection
There’s also room for personal markers — birthdays, milestones, moments that matter.
Each card is simple. It might include:
- a theme
- a few words
- a short prompt
- a quiet action (like lighting a candle or naming gratitudes)
I’ll use the card for that week, then add it to a growing set I can return to year after year.
This feels more honest to how reflection actually works — not daily, not perfect, but returning when it matters.
This is not a challenge (and not a planner)
I want to be clear about what this isn’t.
It’s not:
- a productivity tool
- a planner
- a self-improvement system
- something you can “fail” at
You don’t need to make every card.
You don’t need to start on a particular date.
You don’t need fancy materials or lots of time.
This is about noticing, not achieving.
What an art card might look like
There’s no set style — that’s important to me.
The cards are intentionally open-ended so they can fit different lives and creative practices.
An art card might be:
- a few handwritten lines
- a simple drawing or repeated marks
- collage from found papers
- stitched marks on card
- notes about the season or the week
- something abstract, imperfect, unfinished
One card. One response. That’s enough.
Why I’m sharing this
This is a personal practice — something I’m making for myself because I wanted reflection to live inside my art practice, not alongside it as another thing to maintain.
But I know I’m not the only one who:
- struggles to keep up with journals
- wants structure without pressure
- feels drawn to seasonal living in a quiet way
- wants creativity to feel useful and grounding
So I’m sharing this as I go — slowly, honestly, without pretending to have it all worked out.
If it resonates, you’re very welcome to join in.
If it doesn’t, that’s fine too.
What’s next
I’ll be sharing my first art card on New Year’s Eve — a gentle threshold card, rather than a resolution or goal.
It feels right to begin there, in the space between endings and beginnings.
Until then, this is simply an invitation:
to notice the time you’re in,
to make something small,
and to let the year unfold.
A gentle reminder
You don’t need to prepare.
You don’t need to commit.
You don’t need to keep up.
You can always begin where you are.
Ena Green Designs 