5 Journal Prompts for Creativity and Joy

Discover five journal prompts for creativity that inspire joy, purpose, and a fresh perspective—straight from Called to Be Creative.

If you’ve ever felt stuck, uninspired, or just in need of a fresh burst of joy, journaling might be the spark you need. In Called to Be Creative by Mary Potter Kenyon, readers are invited to explore hands-on projects, personal stories, and reflections designed to help them rediscover their creative spark. While the book goes far beyond journaling, this excerpt highlights five powerful journal prompts for creativity—perfect for getting started on a path toward joy, purpose, and inspiration.

The Pursuit of Happiness

One of the first projects I undertook in my position as a Senior Services librarian was to form a group I inelegantly dubbed the “Lifelong Learners Creativity Group.” Forming the group made sense for a librarian. A 2015 Pew Research study revealed that adults who use libraries are more likely to consider themselves to be lifelong learners, actively pursuing learning opportunities. The International Federation of Library Associations and Institutions (IFLA) has added “lifelong learning” to the list of services all libraries should provide.

The Lifelong Learners Creativity Group

The group was consistent with a library’s mission to engage learners and inspire thinkers, but the formation of it was not simply a job-related, altruistic move. It had been months since I’d felt the kind of creative energy that tended to reveal itself in the writing classes I’d conducted. I’d seen what could happen in a room full of people who invested in their craft, and I missed those passionate conversations about writing. I’d experienced the same thing at writers’ conferences too; the rush of adrenaline that came with speaking and practicing one’s passion, the camaraderie of being in a room full of people that shared that passion. I needed what this group could offer. It turned out others did too.

Women in the fledgling group admitted they weren’t sure what they’d gain from membership, but something in the description had appealed to a restless stirring within them:

Perhaps you were the daydreamer in grade school, the child staring out the window with a head full of stories, or the one reading books from your lap beneath the desk. Then someone snatched the box of crayons from your hand, insisting you’d done it all wrong; that trees weren’t pink, and bunnies weren’t purple, and you’d gone outside the lines. Or maybe they pulled the book out from beneath your desk, telling you it was time for math, not reading. Whether you’re ready to reignite your childhood passion for all things creative and want your crayons back, or are looking for a way to connect with your inner artist and others who think outside of the box, a new group forming at the James Kennedy Library might be of interest.

The Link Between Creativity and Happiness

The group was not closed to males, nor was there any age restriction, yet our initial membership consisted of women ranging from their early thirties to mid-seventies. As we took turns introducing ourselves, it soon became apparent we all had one thing in common: we wanted to add creativity into our lives in some way, and we expected that doing so would make us happier.

We were correct in that assumption. Thanks to scientific research, we can be sure of one thing: working creative endeavors into our lives leads to a more positive state of mind. When researchers at the University of Otago constructed a study to understand if creativity impacted emotional well-being, they discovered a positive connection between the two. The activities could be as simple as journaling, playing an instrument, or spring gardening, as long as it had meaning for the individual.

Creativity at Work

Writing for a newspaper should have been the perfect job for me. Sitting in an office every weekday morning, I was being paid to do what I loved: write. For nearly thirty years, I’d been utilizing morning hours for writing, rising from bed before my children and scribbling away, seeing very little monetary gain. With the newspaper job, I was guaranteed an hourly wage for the same practice.

Initially, there was that sense of satisfaction from a job well done. I was adept at unearthing stories behind the stories, well qualified for the straight reporting. Within weeks, however, the novelty wore off. The constant deadlines ate away at me. There were Mondays when I attended both afternoon and evening meetings and I’d be working from 8:30 a.m. until nearly midnight to meet the Tuesday morning deadline. While with my own writing, I could spend two or three weeks working on a piece, the human interest stories that held the most meaning for me had to be written in two or three days. Then there were so few of those stories compared to meeting coverage and assignments on topics I found mind numbing.

Months into the job, my jaw ached from unconsciously clenching it and my eyelid continually twitched. Not only that, but because of time constraints, I’d given up most of the workshops and speaking opportunities I’d enjoyed. I was increasingly miserable.

The Catalyst for Change

The catalyst for change came the day our town experienced extensive flooding. My boss arrived at our Manchester office, primed for action, repeatedly rushing out the door to get pictures as the water savagely advanced. She was a ball of energy, her muscles taut with the possibility of an award-quality photo. She discovered it on the edge of a park, as a mother deer gently led her fawn, neck deep in the water, to the safety of the grass.

“No deer were harmed in this photo op,” she joked goodnaturedly as she passed the camera around our office to share the picture. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes alight with excitement. I realized it had been months since I’d seen that same light in my own eyes.

The next morning, I was assigned to take photos depicting the aftereffects of the flood. I drove slowly through town only to discover most of the cleanup had already been accomplished. My heart sank when I reached the small mom-and-pop produce business on the edge of the flood zone. I’d interviewed the owners several times, most recently after the husband had gone through grueling cancer treatment. I’d hoped they’d escaped the devastation of the flood waters, but evidently not. The doors of their building were wide open, an oversize dumpster in back filled to the brim.

I was afraid to stop there, to see the look on their faces. I truly cared about these people. But I needed a photo, and there it was, the perfect example of the aftereffects of the flooding.

The building was empty when I entered, an industrial-size fan set up to dry the drenched floors. I halfheartedly took a few pictures as I stood in the middle of the room, thinking about the last time I’d talked to the older couple. The husband had stood stoically at his wife’s side as she related the treatment he’d endured, her eyes filling with tears as she spoke. I considered all they’d endured the past few years: repeated flooding of their business, cancer, and now additional flood damage.

I began sobbing then, unable to stem the flow of tears as I stumbled to my vehicle. And I cried all the way home, realizing I wasn’t crying just for the couple but about myself; I didn’t want to be this person—someone who would take pictures of another person’s misery. It was clear I needed to find a different job. It would be months before I found employment as a librarian, a position that meant fewer hours, more open mornings, and evenings available for teaching and public speaking.

The State of “Flow”

Sometimes we instinctively know what will bring us happiness. I knew I’d savor the free time for writing. What surprised me was a year after the job change, I’d still be waking up excited with the freedom to write on my days off, greedy for open mornings.

I begin free mornings with nothing more than a mug of coffee, legal pad, and pen, refilling my cup several times, blissfully unaware of the passage of time as I write. Then I’ll glance at the clock and realize it’s the afternoon and I’m still in my pajamas. A similar thing happens when I’m teaching or speaking on subjects I’m passionate about (minus the pajamas, of course). I can hardly believe I’m getting paid to do something I enjoy so much. I’ve left a class on such a high I barely remember the drive home. That feeling can last for hours, even days.

Researchers call this joyful state “flow,” the loss of self-consciousness that happens when we’re completely absorbed in an activity, whether it’s intellectual, professional, or physical. Flow can be achieved through activities such as running a race, playing the violin, or writing a book, as long as the activity is voluntary, intrinsically motivating, requiring skill, and challenging in some way.

“When we are in flow, we lose track of time and self while controlling our attention to meet challenging goals,” is how Dr. Gary Gute, University of Northern Iowa professor, describes it.

“We do our best and feel our best. Flow gives our intellectual and emotional resources a workout, helps us extract meaning and enjoyment from life, and powers the transformation of anxiety, boredom, and suffering.”

A growing body of scientific research proves that flow is positively correlated with happiness and that people who experience a lot of flow also develop increased concentration, better performance, and higher self-esteem.

How to Achieve Flow

“The best moments in our lives are not the passive, receptive, relaxing times. . . . The best moments usually occur if a person’s body or mind is stretched to its limits in a voluntary effort to accomplish something difficult and worthwhile,” Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi claims in his book Flow: The Psychology of Optimal Experience.

Csikszentmihalyi is one of the pioneers of the scientific study of happiness and a founding figure of positive psychology. He discovered that people find genuine satisfaction during the flow state of consciousness, particularly with activities that involve their creative abilities. He insists happiness does not simply happen but must be prepared for and cultivated by each person by setting challenges that are neither too simple nor too demanding for one’s abilities.

The main thesis of his work is that happiness is not a fixed state but one that can be developed as we learn to achieve flow in our lives. His definition of flow is “a state in which people are so involved in an activity that nothing else seems to matter; the experience is so enjoyable that people will continue to do it even at great cost, for the sheer sake of doing it.”

One key aspect of flow is that while in it, nearly all the brain’s available inputs are devoted to one activity, which is why the perception of time changes. The brain is too focused on one thing to keep track of stray negative thoughts, or even discomfort. That explains why a runner might experience a “runner’s high,” or why I can forget to eat lunch when immersed in a writing project.

Flow and Hatha Yoga

While Csikszentmihalyi is quick to point out that one can achieve this state through activities such as fishing, playing the guitar, cooking, or reading, he considers the practice of hatha yoga, in particular, one of the best models to describe what happens when psychic energy is flowing.

“The similarities between yoga and flow are extremely strong; in fact, it makes sense to think of yoga as a very thoroughly planned flow activity. Both try to achieve a joyous, self-forgetful involvement through concentration, which in turn is made possible by a discipline of the body,” he writes in his book.

Does that mean everyone should practice yoga? A yoga instructor might concur, but there are many other ways to establish the flow state, and it could take some experimentation to discover what works for you. I find it in writing and public speaking, but I’m open to experiencing it through other avenues, which explains one of the tenets of the lifelong learner group I facilitated at the library: to try new things. One month, a member brought ukuleles for everyone, insisting we’d be playing a tune by the end of the evening. The following month, we painted on canvas. I enjoyed both these activities, not because I had plans to become a musician or a painter but because I wanted to stretch my creative muscles. Being able to laugh good-naturedly at my clumsy attempts didn’t hurt either.

Trying New Things

Attempting something new isn’t the only way to generate art’s benefits. According to a study by Professor Semir Zeki, a neurobiologist at University College, London, even the simple act of admiring good artwork triggers a rise in dopamine, affecting the feel-good area of the brain, increasing blood flow and causing contentment.

So what are you waiting for? Want to add joy to your life? It’s time to look at activities that can bring you to a state of flow.

5 Journal Prompts To Begin Your Creative Journey

1. What did you enjoy doing as a child? What kinds of activities were you drawn to? Was it digging in the dirt? Helping Mom in the kitchen? Reading or drawing? Think back to the deep recesses of your mind.

2. Were there interests or hobbies you wanted to pursue but were unable to, for whatever reason?

3. What talents did parents, teachers, or other trusted adults observe in you or say you had a natural gift for?

4. When you were old enough to choose for yourself, what activities, clubs, organizations, and groups did you join?

5. When was the last time you got lost in an activity? Perhaps it’s just a matter of finding something you can get lost in. List all those creative endeavors you could imagine doing if lack of time or money were not a hindrance. Don’t overthink this exercise or hold back because some endeavors seem impossible. Jot down the first things you think of.

“Fill your paper with the breathings of your heart.”

—William Wordsworth, poet

Rediscover Your Creative Spark with Guided Projects

^{Excerpt from Called to Be Creative by Mary Potter Kenyon.}