The Revenge of the Archivist, aka Backdating My 5-Year Journal // A.C.

It finally happened—after three solid months of letting page after empty page breeze by in my Hobonichi 5-year, the archivist in me has returned with a vengeance (as predicted in last month’s story).  Now, at last, in the season of school and fall equinox, I steel myself for the ordeal of backdating every day of the entire summer. Here’s how I’m doing it: I pull out my 5-year, my TN with its weekly insert and my MD Codex mind dump notebook. I section off the blank chunks of the 5-year with binder clips. I choose a section to work on, then open all three journals to that time. Starting on the last blank page in my 5-year, I work backwards. (Two reasons for this: it’s easier to remember more recent events in detail, and since I typically write my mind dump entries in the mornings, they often describe events of the previous day.) By cross-referencing my to-do lists, my stream-of-consciousness thoughts and sometimes even my phone’s camera roll, I’m usually able to piece together enough hints of what happened on any given day to write something in the 5-year’s slot. After filling in a day, I turn the page and reset the binder clip—it’s visually so satisfying to see the section thin out as I catch up on more and more entries.

When I first sat down to catch up in the 5-year, there were actually four and a half months’ worth of blank pages. As of this writing, I’ve narrowed it down to six particularly eventful weeks scattered in February, May and July. If it starts to feel like a drag, I skip around to another binder clip and work on a different section for a while. I’m happy to catch up on a week/7 entries in one session, and usually get worn out mentally around 10. It’s a surprisingly arduous and time-consuming process—but a worthwhile one.

I’ve noticed that I often get stuck on the days that were most significant to me. That’s probably why these gaps became so vast in the first place. I cared so much about remembering certain days that I started overthinking what I “should” write about them and ended up writing nothing at all. I don’t regret it. I truly enjoyed the peacefulness of lazy summertime, letting all that lovely paper remain smooth and clear of marks. I wanted to savor my time. But now here I am, working hard as a scribe for the self of future years who may wish I’d written something, anything, because they, too, care deeply about those certain days. It’s funny, isn’t it? The whole reason I left so many pages blank is essentially the same reason I decided to go back and fill them. The 5-year journal really is an interesting tool for conversing with past and present selves.

Recently, a friend asked me what my opinions are on backdating. I thought about it carefully, for my feelings have changed a lot since I began filling in my first Hobonichi 5-year, the one covering the years 2019-2023. Back then, I think I had this perception that backdating was less authentic. Like if it wasn’t written in the moment, it didn’t count. In practice, of course, this was unrealistic. Sometimes I went on vacation and left the chunky little journal at home. Oftentimes I didn’t have the time, energy or desire to write. It’s possible to develop enough consistency to record every day for five years straight— striving for an ideal like that is challenging and fun! But that kind of discipline isn’t for everyone, which is absolutely normal and fine.

“Missing a few days of journaling doesn’t make the words that I do manage to write any less meaningful.” That’s an idea that didn’t take long to understand at all. What has taken me a little longer to absorb is the shadow of that idea: memory itself is not “authentic”. I don’t mean to say that our memories are not real or valid. What I mean is that trying to capture the present in words is like pouring a liquid into a vessel riddled with very fine cracks. Just as when I tell a friend about something that happened years ago, it’s not the full story—I choose some details and leave out others (intentionally or not), I decide what is entertaining or relevant in order to tell what needs to be told—when I write in my journal, whether I’m backdating or writing on the day of, I try not to think of it as “trying to hold on to as much as I can” anymore. The present is like water, impossible to hold in cupped hands forever. Next year, in two years, in five, in fifty, there won’t be enough left to drink. All I’m trying to do is leave a few words, a few drops of ink, that will bring back the taste.

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Text and photos by: A.C. Esguerra

Where to find A.C. : instagram @blueludebar

Read other stories by A.C. : Here

Bk Artifacts Featured: 

• Hobonichi 5-Year Techo // A6
• Traveler's Notebook // Camel 
• [BKxTRC] JIYU Weekly Planner
• MD Journal Codex
• Inspiration Stamp by Joni Marriot