Quiet Nudges Toward a Better Self
“2 Degrees Celsius, feels like -14 Degrees, Sleet for next 1 hour” – The Weather application on my iPhone is definitely not lying.“
Experiencing the Cold and Finding Space
It’s cold outside. Colder than I thought it would be. I was born in a warm country, so I always thought I loved the cold. But here in Canada… it’s different. Sharp, biting, alive. And yet, strangely comforting. I pull my jacket tighter, lace my Snow boots a little more firmly, tilt my umbrella against the wind, and start walking, taking it all in.
Walking always gives me space—space for thoughts I don’t usually notice, for ideas that float around just beneath the surface. I make my way through Celebration Square. Even though Christmas passed two days ago, the lights are still on. The trees glow, symmetrical, colorful, calm. People pause, smile, take pictures. I notice the colors, the shapes, the way people move through the cold without hesitation. It reminds me how much the spaces around us—tiny choices, little arrangements—shape the way we feel.
“Walking gives me the space to notice myself—the small details, the quiet nudges of life that usually pass me by.”
The Café as a Mirror
Remember the café you always go to. The corner table by the window, the smell of roasted coffee beans, the faint sweetness of pastries, the soft hum of conversation. The banners on the walls—sometimes funny, sometimes wise—catch your eye without demanding attention. You watch the steam curling from cups, the way light shifts across the table, the quiet movements of people around.
And you feel it—the sense that you belong there. That you are reflected in that space. Not because it’s perfect. Not because it’s extraordinary. But because it mirrors something inside you that you rarely notice in the rest of life: a version of you that can just sit, notice, breathe, and exist.
And then it hits me—how rare that is. “Most of the time, life rushes by. Days blur together. I act, I respond, I move on. I rarely pause to notice myself. And when I don’t notice, growth feels like guesswork.”
Discovering a Journal as a Gentle Nudge
That’s when writing became my nudge. I went looking for a journal once, hoping to find something that could actually help me reflect. I walked into Walmart, imagining rows of possibilities, pages that would catch my thoughts and shape them into clarity. But all I found were blank pages—empty, sterile, staring back at me. Not a guide, not a structure. Just emptiness.
Most people would pick one up, hesitate, and put it back. I almost did the same. I could feel the weight of choice pressing down. Blank pages offer freedom, yes—but they also offer nothing if you don’t know how to start.
“Blank pages offer freedom, yes—but they also offer nothing if you don’t know how to start.”
Structuring the Journal
So I made my own. Here’s the way I use journaling as a nudge:
- Top three wins of the day: Just three. Enough to notice progress, to reinforce that something is moving, even if slowly.
- Moments of struggle: Moments where I felt slow, confused, or frustrated. Not to judge myself, just to see patterns emerge.
- Why it happened: A sentence or a few words: fatigue, distraction, lack of clarity, being unprepared. Even naming it is a small nudge toward awareness.
- Tiny improvement: One word, a short phrase. Something I can actually do tomorrow, something small that nudges me forward.
- Gratitude: Softly reshaping the edges of the day.
- Intent for tomorrow: One single act that moves me toward a better version of myself. One small choice. No rules. No pressure. Just a gentle structure that makes reflection possible, actionable, and human.
I don’t present it as a rule for anyone else. It works for me. The point isn’t filling pages—it’s noticing myself, seeing patterns, giving myself options, nudging gently toward change, one small step at a time.
Walking Back and Reflecting on Choice
Walking back, snow crunching under my boots, lights glinting from the trees, the café somewhere ahead, I notice it all again. The cold, the colors, the rhythm of life, the quiet pulse of possibility. Reflection, choice, small nudges toward the person I hope to be.
And the rest…well, the rest is mine to write.
Your Gentle Nudge Today
Try journaling just one small step tomorrow. Notice, reflect, and share what you discover in the comments — your nudge toward a better self starts today.