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This is the final blog post of 2025.
In the new year, I’m changing how I share my work. Instead of blogging, the focus shifts to journaling prompts—short, intentional questions for anyone who feels stuck on a blank page or needs a nudge to begin. These prompts live in The Reflection Room and on TikTok. Short prompts. More space for personal reflection. The site has been renamed Paula’s Prompts, reflecting the focus and the work you’ll find here going forward. Alongside this shift, I’m working on my second children’s book, The Secrets of Fairy Village. More details about that project—and my children’s books—can be found at A Red Lava. This post closes out the year and makes room for what’s next. Listen. Write. Begin.
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This is the month when people start talking about resolutions and reinvention. But before any of that, there’s a step I've been taking for the last few years that many people skip: understanding what actually happened this year. Before I rush into “new year, new me” mode, I stop long enough to see what the last twelve months really taught me — not the curated version, the honest one. Every year leaves me with patterns, reactions, and moments that reveal who I’m becoming. My clearest lessons haven’t come from wins. They’ve come from irritation, discomfort, conflict, and the things that pushed my buttons — the moments that showed me what truly matters to me. This December, I’m doing a personal inventory — not to judge myself, but to understand myself. What strengthened me? What drained me? Where did I stay in integrity, and where did I shrink? What was I grateful for? What did I tolerate that I won’t carry into next year? And which moments proved that I’ve grown more than I realized? One quote has guided me for years, and it fits perfectly with this kind of reflection: “When you change the way you look at things, the things you look at change.” — Wayne Dyer That’s the point of this inventory. Not reinvention — recognition. A shift in perspective that clarifies what’s ready to fall away and what’s ready to move forward with me. Year-end reflection is a clarity exercise. It helps me walk into January already knowing myself better. Download your Personal Year-End Inventory below. Visit the Christmas Collection here. As Movember comes to an end, it’s a good moment to slow down, breathe, and take stock of the month —not in a dramatic way, just an honest check-in with yourself. A few minutes with a journal can bring clarity you didn’t know you needed. One page. One thought. One moment that belongs only to you. Prompts to end the month
Movember isn’t only about mustaches—it’s about awareness, conversations, and taking care of your inner world. A journal is a simple place to start. Click here to view the Coffee & Conversation Collection or click on the images below to view them on Amazon, and give yourself a quiet moment to reflect before the month turns.
 The 5-Minute Brain Dump: Why Journaling is the Ultimate Tool for Men’s Mental Health
It’s November, which means two things: the weather is turning (especially here in Canada!), and it’s Movember. Movember is about the mustache, sure, but it's really about giving men’s mental health and unique health challenges the spotlight they deserve for the entire month. This focus on reflection and growth is highlighted on November 19th, International Men's Day, reminding us that this is a critical time for action. For years, I worked in the Violence Against Women (VAW) sector. I saw firsthand how complex and broken systems can be when people need help. We tried to build a "bubble" of support—shelters, counselling, legal aid—for women escaping abuse. Those resources are crucial, but even they fall short. When I think about the men who cause harm, I see a void. There's often no guidance, no system to help them stop, process their pain, or change their course. They’re left isolated, angry, and they frequently repeat the cycle with someone else. My own experience taught me the high cost of this lack of introspection. My ex-husband never admitted fault, never took accountability. That stubborn refusal to look inward ultimately left him estranged from his own daughter, despite my efforts to keep him involved. His choice to blame others and live with unresolved anger cost him a relationship that would have benefited him most. This isn’t about pity; it’s about accountability and constructive change. Organizations like Movember are doing the heavy lifting to challenge toxic masculinity and encourage men to take action. My part in this? It’s offering a simple, non-judgmental place to start: journaling. Why Journaling Works When Everything Else Fails Society teaches men to "tough it out," but real strength is the opposite of emotional suppression. Real strength is having the guts to sit down and actually look at what’s going on inside. For me, journaling became a lifeline. It’s my constant, safe place to process, reflect, and find moments of gratitude, even on the worst days. I truly believe it’s the most powerful, inexpensive tool for anyone looking to make a change or understand themselves better—and yes, that includes men. This is why I created the Moustache Journal series (and yes, some feature Kiwi and Diesel rocking their own staches!). I was actually surprised at how quickly these took off. They became my biggest seller—and when I received large orders, I could only assume it was an organization buying them to gift to men. And I hope that means men are starting to take this seriously. I hope that these journals bring a bit of fun into the process and serve as a gentle reminder that self-care doesn’t have to feel like a chore. The 5-Minute Reality Check You don't need to be a writer. You don't need hours. You just need to be consistent. Five minutes a day is all it takes to:
Your Three Lines to Get Started Stop overthinking it. Just open the page and finish one or two of these sentences:
Head over to my Movember Page to see the full line of Moustache Journals that are helping people—men and women—find their space for reflection.  While flipping through an old journal, I found something I’d completely forgotten about: a workshop where we were challenged to write a six-word memoir. Dated 1994, scribbled in blue ink:
“I’m doing the best I can.” It stopped me. Simple. Honest. A little heavy. But real — and still kind of true. That journal entry brought me right back to the Six-Word Memoir Project — a storytelling challenge that invites you to capture your life in exactly six words. It’s a practice I hadn’t thought about in years, but now it feels like something I want to revisit. Because so much has changed. And also... hasn’t. These days, I find myself repeating a different phrase: “I am a work in progress.” (It’s practically my signature at this point.) But I want to expand that — give it a little more of me. So here’s my 2025 version: Still growing. Still healing. Dogs included. Six-word stories are one of my favourite ways to reflect. They’re quick, pressure-free, and wildly revealing. You don’t need the perfect words — just your words. So here’s your invitation: What’s your six-word memoir today? Post it in the comments. Write it in your journal. Share it with a friend. Or just keep it to yourself and let it sit with you awhile. Six words. One moment. One truth. Go.  Book Club Check-In: Weeks 4–6
Somewhere between Week 4 and Week 6 of The Artist’s Way, things began to shift. The excitement of the early weeks faded, and resistance crept in. I started questioning the value of certain exercises, feeling impatient, and noticing how often my mind wanted to skip ahead instead of staying present. But I kept showing up — page by page. Morning Pages and Beyond One of the core tools in The Artist’s Way is Morning Pages — three handwritten pages every morning, no exceptions. Julia Cameron insists that three is the magic number: not two, not four, exactly three. I’m still not sure how I feel about that part. Some mornings, three feels perfect. Other days, it feels like a rule for the sake of a rule. But I do them anyway — because showing up matters more than believing every detail. As someone who already journals daily, adding Morning Pages simply deepened what I was already doing. I’ve been using my Anatomical Heart Journal from the Love Line — and it’s filling quickly. Between the required three pages and my regular journaling, where I capture gratitude lists, reflections, and bits of clarity that surface throughout the day, the pages are adding up fast. What I’m Discovering These middle weeks have reminded me that creative work isn’t about constant inspiration — it’s about staying with yourself when things get uncomfortable. The writing has become less about answers and more about awareness. I don’t always love what I find on the page, but I love the honesty of it. And that, I think, is the real work beneath the work. These middle weeks have reminded me that creative recovery isn’t always comfortable. Sometimes it’s frustrating, repetitive, or even boring. But there’s value in staying with it. Writing has become less about “doing the work” and more about witnessing what’s really going on underneath. Not every entry feels inspired, but all of it feels honest — and that’s enough. If you’re walking through The Artist’s Way or thinking about starting your own daily writing ritual, let it be yours. Don’t worry about the rules or the word count — just show up.  Click on the image to view this journal on Amazon I recently joined a book club for The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron, and we’ve just wrapped up Week 3. It felt like the right moment to pause and take stock of how it’s been going so far.
I didn’t join just for the reading; I joined because one of my goals this year is to build more meaningful connections. This book club gives me structure, a reason to show up every week, and space to reflect both in solitude and with others. Weeks 1–3: Settling In The first few weeks have been grounding. The reading feels accessible and thought-provoking, and the group discussions help open things up even more. It’s one thing to read a passage and reflect on it alone — it’s another to hear how it lands for someone else. These early conversations have reminded me how powerful shared perspectives can be. I’ve felt engaged, curious, and grateful to be part of something that encourages slow thinking and honest dialogue. So far, The Artist’s Way has been equal parts gentle and revealing — a reminder that creativity isn’t something we chase; it’s something we uncover when we give ourselves permission to listen. For this 12-week journey, I chose a journal from my Love Line. It felt right: open, curious, a little wild — the perfect companion for creative recovery. Every morning, I fill its pages with thoughts, resistance, gratitude, and the occasional spark of insight. It’s already becoming a visual record of my process — messy, emotional, and honest. If you’re walking through The Artist’s Way or exploring your own creative path, choose a journal that feels alive in your hands — something that reflects who you are and who you’re becoming. This heart-covered one is mine.
Before I began writing and publishing, my work — and my heart — were deeply rooted in supporting women and children affected by violence. I spent ten years in the non-profit sector after studying to become a Violence Against Women and Children Advocate in college.
That path wasn’t random; it was personal. Life experiences led me there — the kind that open your eyes, deepen your empathy, and shape how you move through the world. Today, that same compassion flows into my creative work. The journals and notebooks I design are meant to hold space — for reflection, healing, courage, and self-discovery. This International Women’s Day, I honour every woman who has found her way through pain, reclaimed her power, and continues to rise. To every woman who has ever survived, created, or stood tall in the face of challenge — this one’s for you. Keep writing your story!  120 Pages in 16 Days: A Quiet Win That Means Everything
I wrote 120 pages in the past 16 days. Not just project work—this includes my daily journaling, gratitude practice, affirmations, intentions, and deepening nightly reflections. It's a mix of personal growth and creative output. And honestly? I’m really proud of it. This didn’t happen overnight. It’s the result of consistent practices shaped by some powerful reads in 2024: ✨ Atomic Habits reminded me that small habits = big results. ✨ The Art of Laziness helped me rethink productivity (less hustle, more intention). ✨ The Mountain Is You cracked open the ways I self-sabotage. ✨ Emotional Intelligence deepened my self-awareness. ✨ The Power of Intention anchored my daily mantras. ✨ The Perfect Story sharpened how I share what matters. ✨ And in 2025, The 10X Rule kicked things up a notch—it’s pushed me to dream (and do) bigger. This page count isn’t just a number. It’s proof that daily writing, gratitude, and reflection can create real momentum. It’s a reminder to celebrate the quiet wins. The ones that happen when no one’s watching. The ones that change everything. Here’s to the next 120 pages—and everything they’ll unlock.  Last week, I shared my plan to spend the weekend flipping through my gratitude journals and reflecting on 2024 before the holiday chaos hit. (If you missed it, you can read about the plan here.) Now that I’ve had the time to sit with it and look back on the year, I wanted to share what came up for me during that reflection.
This wasn’t about setting goals for 2025 or evaluating whether I hit every target I set at the start of the year. This session was purely about gratitude—looking at the moments, people, and experiences that shaped my year and reconnecting with what mattered most. Every day, I write down three things I’m grateful for. I’ve been doing that since the late ’90s, but over time, the practice has evolved. Alongside gratitude, I now include intentions, affirmations, and a simple wellness plan to start the day with focus and purpose. This yearly reflection feels like an extension of that practice—taking the time to look back at what stood out and what I want to carry forward into the new year. Some themes stood out clearly this year! Kiwi and Diesel—my constant companions—appeared in my gratitude journals almost every day. Kiwi is pure chaos, always full of energy and keeping me on my toes. Diesel, on the other hand, is cuddly and affectionate, a constant source of comfort. They’re not just pets—they’re family, and reflecting on how much they bring to my life is always grounding. Groove is my focus fairy. Groove—a coworking app where you virtually connect with up to four other Groovers from around the world, set intentions, work for 50 minutes, and then regroup—was a game-changer this year. It gave me focus, structure, and even a sense of community I didn't know I needed, all in tiny bursts that made work feel more connected and productive. Another recurring theme was the words opportunity and possibility. I kept seeing those words throughout my entries, whether it was gratitude for the potential for something good to happen or the chance to take a step in a new direction. Even when the outcome wasn’t certain, I appreciated the openness to try and see where life might lead. Self-care also appeared consistently. From massages to time spent reading, these rituals have been anchors for me over the years. It’s not just about relaxation—it’s about showing up for myself and making time for the things that nourish me. I’ve also relished using my wellness benefits to make these moments happen, which is another thing I’ve been incredibly grateful for. These reflections reveal a lot about myself and my relationships. The practice of looking back helps me notice patterns—like what I truly prioritize or what holds the most value for me, even if I didn’t see it clearly at the time. It’s a way to deepen my awareness and reconnect with what feels most meaningful. For me, this practice isn’t about fixing anything. It’s not about wishing I’d done something differently or chasing perfection. It’s about honouring the year I’ve lived—gratefully, imperfectly—and letting those lessons quietly guide me into the next one. This month, I’m launching a series of new gratitude journals, and I’d love for you to join me on this journey. If you’re thinking about your New Year’s resolutions, why not make gratitude one of them? There’s so much power in pausing, noticing, and reflecting—and I’m excited to help others explore it, too. Let’s make 2025 a year of intentional gratitude together. |
