There’s a quiet kind of magic in stepping outside yourself for a moment. Writing from a perspective that isn’t your own—whether it’s someone centuries back or just a different version of you—can spark empathy, creativity and deep reflection.
Today, I invite you to imagine a life not lived but dreamed—a day in the shoes of a lighthouse keeper in 1910. A life ruled not by the internet or social feeds, but by weather, tide, solitude, and ink on paper. This is the essence of the Fictional Day Journal: a writing exercise that blends storytelling and mindful living.
Morning Light and Salted Air
The sound of waves against stone is your only alarm. The lighthouse breathes with the tide—each crash a slow, rhythmic call to wake. You rise before the sun, the dim glow of an oil lamp guiding you across the creaking floorboards. Outside, the sea stretches endlessly, and gulls cry overhead.
A kettle hums over a wood-burning stove as you jot a single line into your weathered notebook: “Wind NE, mild fog at sea. Light keepers must be watchful.”
You’re not hurried. There’s no inbox, no morning meeting. Just a log to maintain, a lens to polish, and a routine that calms the nerves rather than frays them. Before breakfast, you sit with a steaming cup of tea and open your Positivity Journal. Today’s prompt asks, “What beauty can be found in repetition?” You smile. The answer surrounds you.
The Work Between the Words
Your duties, though practical, feel like meditation. You oil the machinery, tend to the glass, record cloud movement. Sometimes you hum an old folk tune your father once sang while painting boats. At midday, you eat bread still warm from the hearth, cheese, and pickled onions—savouring each bite.
And then, when the sun reaches its highest point, you return to writing—not for duty, but for yourself.
You’ve taken to fictional journaling in recent months. You imagine what it might be like to be a baker in Paris. Or a violinist in Vienna. You let the pen roam freely. It’s not just creative play—it’s mental nourishment.
Writing from another’s shoes lets your mind travel beyond the confines of this granite tower. For those who journal regularly, this exercise is deeply enriching. It's like the Anxiety Journal—an outlet to process feelings through guided structure. But instead of unpacking your day, you’re exploring someone else’s. It’s grounding and freeing all at once.
The Shift Within
By afternoon, a storm threatens the horizon. You write a brief warning in the weather log and check the lantern’s fuel. It's instinct now. One eye always on the sea, the other on your thoughts.
In your solitude, your mind drifts again. You imagine being a young woman in 1970s New York, documenting the rise of punk music and political unrest in her Music Journal. You write from her voice. She’s messy, fierce, and full of spark. A total contrast to your life of ritual and solitude—but in writing her, you feel more whole.
This kind of journaling opens portals. You begin to feel connected to lives you’ve never lived. A fictional day might even help you untangle your real emotions.
Evening Reflections
Night falls early here. You light the great lamp that will cut through darkness for passing ships. Your duty is quiet but vital.
With the light now turning slowly above you, you return once more to your desk. The sea is loud, but your room is warm and still. You pick up your Manifestation Journal and write:
“I want to embrace imagination without fear of judgement. I want to explore the world, even if only on paper.”
And finally, before bed, you revisit your character for the day. She’s older now, with grey hair and a crowded Parisian flat filled with books and broken clocks. You describe her Sunday morning tea ritual, the radio playing Édith Piaf in the background.
Then you close the journal and smile. Though you’ll never meet her, she’s part of you now.
Why Try the Fictional Day Journal?
Fictional journaling isn’t about getting it “right.” It’s about escaping into someone else’s world and coming back with clarity. It’s especially powerful when going through emotional transitions—such as those captured in the Breakup Journal. Sometimes it’s easier to explore hard feelings by placing them in a different context or character.
Here are some benefits of writing a fictional day:
-
Improved empathy: Writing from another’s viewpoint expands understanding
-
Creative spark: Inspires stories, poetry, or artistic ideas
-
Mental escape: Offers a healthy distraction from everyday stress
-
Personal growth: Helps explore buried desires, regrets, or dreams
-
Playfulness: Reintroduces imagination in a world often focused on logic
Not every journal needs to reflect your real life. Some of the most profound entries begin with, “Today, I was a florist in Amsterdam…”
Getting Started with Your Own Fictional Day
-
Choose a character: someone from history, another country, or a made-up life.
-
Set the scene: where do they live? What do they do? What’s their morning like?
-
Journal as if you are them: include what they hear, feel, think and notice.
-
Reflect afterward: what parts of you showed up in this character?
There are no rules. That’s the beauty of it. Let the character speak. Let their worries or joys be yours for a page or two.
At Land of Serenity, our collection of selfcare journals are designed to guide real reflection and imagination alike. Whether you’re journaling as yourself or someone else, it all begins with pen, paper, and presence.