Insight | Write it down: journals, idea logs and sticky notes as habits

The Short Version

Across very different careers, the people in these conversations share a plain habit: they get their thoughts out of their heads and onto a page, a phone or a sticky note. Taylor Swift types every lyric idea into an endless note on her phone and later mines a year of them to build songs [1]; Rick Rubin writes notes in his phone constantly, has kept dream journals, and treats everything he makes as an honest "diary entry" [2]; Kevin O'Leary writes three must-do tasks on a sticky note every night and does nothing else until they're done [3]; and Mel Robbins insists that reflection only becomes real once it's written down [4]. The payoff comes in two forms. Writing captures ideas that would otherwise vanish within a minute [1], and it forces clarity about what matters, what to do first and what to stop doing [3][4]. The sources differ on the tool, the timing and the purpose, but not on the principle: if it stays in your head, you will probably lose it.

What They Said

Taylor Swift, via Mel Robbins: the endless idea log

Mel Robbins builds an episode around six habits of highly successful people, and the second is Taylor Swift's way of capturing ideas [1]. Robbins, a devoted fan who took her daughters to the Eras Tour, notes that The Tortured Poets Department arrived with 16 songs and three bonus tracks, followed by a surprise anthology of songs 17 through 31, and that all 31 debuted on the Billboard Hot 100, with Swift holding the top 14 spots, a first in Billboard history [1]. The question is how anyone produces that much.

In a 2015 interview, singer-songwriter Ryan Adams asked Swift how she keeps all that information in one place. Her answer: "When I'm like prewriting, which is what I'm always doing, like right now, like I'm not actively making an album. But if I get an idea that I feel like is a cool observation and it's a cool lyric thing, I just write it, I type it into this endless note pad on my phone" [1].

The second stage is what makes the habit powerful. When she was writing "Blank Space," she wrote the chorus and then, in her words, "I need to search through all my lyrics that I've thought of in the last year" that fit the dramatic, visual feel she wanted, cherry-picking phrases she'd thought of at random times across the year [1]. The daily capture becomes raw material for later work.

Robbins draws two lessons. The first is about practice: "Anything that you want to be better at, make it a daily practice," she says, noting that Swift keeps capturing ideas every day even when she isn't actively writing an album [1]. The second is about memory. Everyone has had a great idea, told themselves to write it down, "And a minute later, you don't remember it at all" [1]. Swift, by contrast, has made it a habit to "yank them out of the subconscious and ground them in the real world by writing them down, she now has an ongoing library that she can access in the future" [1]. Without it, the epiphany you had walking the dog is simply gone: "If you try to hold on to all the amazing ideas that pop into your head, you're just going to forget them" [1].

Robbins adds a model from her own home. For the 30 years she has known her husband Chris, he has carried a tiny notebook that fits in his back pocket, pulling it out to jot down ideas while walking in the woods, stopped at a stop sign or cooking; he has probably filled 50 of them [1]. She is candid that she hasn't cracked it herself. Blaming ADHD, dyslexia or plain disorganization, she has tried notebooks and Moleskine journals and is currently using three-by-five note cards that are "all over the frickin place"; "I don't have a system yet," she admits, but she's certain that "This is 1000% a habit of billionaires to take your great ideas and get them out of your head and get them on paper so that you're building a resource that you can come back to" [1]. She says she may try the notes app like Swift [1].

She also gives the habit an emotional meaning. Every time you capture an idea, "you are honoring your own wisdom. You are saying this idea and this insight is worthy of me remembering it" [1]. The tool doesn't matter much to her: the notes app, "this little notebook or the no card however your system is, just get it in the physical space" [1].

Robbins connects the capture habit to the other habits in the same episode. The ideas you get from wandering, changing your environment or meeting new people (her lesson from Shigeru Miyamoto and neuroscientist Tali Sharot) are the ones to "get them on paper or you get them on a notes app or you put them on a note card so you establish this library of ideas to come back to" [1]. Even LeBron James, praising sleep, says "When you sleep, you have great dreams. You come up with great ideas" [1], which is one more source of material worth writing down.

Rick Rubin and Andrew Huberman: notes, dream journals and the diary mindset

Rick Rubin, the producer behind records by Johnny Cash, the Beastie Boys, Adele and Eminem, captures ideas in almost the same way Swift does. He writes notes in his phone constantly, though he admits he sometimes can't remember what a note meant, and says voice memos might be worth trying [2]. His daily routine builds this in: in the morning he writes down exciting thoughts but doesn't engage in work until 11 a.m. at the earliest, often 1 p.m. [2]. Writing lets him keep the thought without breaking the slow start he protects.

He has also kept dream journals at various points [2]. He doesn't analyze dreams in the moment, but looking back years later he found that surreal dreams from the same period were all saying the same thing about his life, reflections of how his subconscious was experiencing things [2]. That matters to him because, as he puts it, "The instinct and the unconscious is where the great ideas are," while ideas from the intellect carry much less charge [2]. A written record is what let him see that pattern at all.

The "diary" in Rubin's thinking is also a way of working. About 10% of listener questions were about writer's block, and Rubin says the cause is usually "either a self-judgment or fear of outside judgment" [2]. His answer: "Everything I make is a diary entry" [2]. No one can tell you your diary entry is wrong, because it's simply your honest experience at that moment; it doesn't need to be your best work or sell a certain number of copies, and if you're just being honest about where you are, there's nothing to block [2]. He extends the same logic to relationships: lying to a partner, like lying in a diary, only fools yourself [2]. The honesty that makes a diary useful is the same honesty that frees the work.

Andrew Huberman adds his own long journaling practice. He writes one to eight handwritten pages, starting in capital letters and switching to cursive as he speeds up, usually to get out whatever is clogging him; the pages are sometimes tear-stained and sometimes, as on the morning of the recording, joyful [2]. He is writing his book like diary entries, and Rubin's advice is to get a complete draft down as soon as possible and not get bogged down in details until the whole thing exists [2].

Huberman also previews the research behind expressive writing. In James Pennebaker's protocol, you write for 15 minutes a day on four days about the same most difficult experience of your life [2]. Huberman says data from more than 200 studies show benefits for psychology, physiology and immune function, and calls the results comparable to prescription treatments like SSRIs [2].

Rubin keeps perspective on the tools. On smartphones, he says "the tools don't make or break your art," and they can be used well or badly [2].

Kevin O'Leary: the sticky note that sets the day

Kevin O'Leary, "Mr. Wonderful" from Shark Tank, uses writing for a different job: focus. Each night he writes down three critical things he must get done the next day on a sticky note, places it on the bathroom mirror, and refuses to do anything else (email, texts, meetings) until those three tasks are complete [3]. The summary describes it as simple, old-school, and effective, and quotes him: "This system made me 10x more productive. No tech. Just a sticky note and discipline" [3].

Where Swift's log is open-ended and expansive, O'Leary's note is deliberately narrow. It limits the day to three priorities and puts them where he can't avoid seeing them. It sits inside a broader philosophy in which, according to O'Leary, wealthy people are extremely mindful of time, their most valuable asset [3]. The note is also a small act of honesty with himself: his most repeated lesson is to never lie, even a white lie, because lies come back to destroy trust, relationships and your own internal clarity [3]. The conversation closes on the idea that clarity comes from telling the truth and managing your time [3]. He also believes great entrepreneurs have creative outlets, writing among them, and that business and art are not separate [3].

Mel Robbins' yearly audit: questions answered on paper

In a year-end episode, Robbins walks through the "yearly audit," a ritual she and Chris have done every year for 20 years and now do with their young adult kids [4]. Her argument is that people jump straight to resolutions without figuring out where they are, and that planning needs two data points: "Where are you and where do you want to go?" [4].

Writing is central to the method. Listen through once, she says, then come back with paper or a laptop, your calendar and your phone's camera roll [4]. Her reason: "if you just keep them trapped in your mind, they're not real. I need you to pull this wisdom and clarity out of your brain and put them either in your computer or in your notes app or on a piece of paper in the real world" [4]. After two decades of doing this, she says with certainty, "You have forgotten 95% of what's happened this year" [4]. Searching her own year turns up 6,927 photos and highlights she'd lost, from visiting her daughter in California to a yoga class where a flamingo put its beak over her shoulder mid-pose [4].

The seven questions are: What were the highlights? What were the hardest parts? What did you learn about yourself? What will you stop doing? What will you start doing? What will you continue doing? And what can you do today to take the first step? [4]. The stop-start-continue part comes from a planning tool businesses have used everywhere from Harvard Business School to top executive teams [4].

Robbins demonstrates that the writing itself produces insight. Talking through what to stop, she suddenly finds her answer: "See, I just discovered it by talking to you. I need to stop adding things" [4]. She jokes that she'd "better write that in a sharpie and put it on my forehead for crying out loud" [4]. Her audit overturns her default plan: "If I hadn't done this audit, my plan for next year would be more," she says, but the audit told her to do less and focus on what actually matters [4]. She also uses last year's written list as a record to learn from. Her top "start" goal, strength training three days a week, didn't happen, and instead of trashing herself she asked why and found it happened only when she had steady routines, like taping weeks in Boston or stretches in Vermont [4]. Another start goal, saving money aggressively, did happen, and she credits keeping it in front of her face [4].

She recommends coming back to the list: "that's the other reason to come back to this and listen and to write things down because you can add things to the list," since once you start chipping away, "more and more and more opens up" [4]. And the finished page does something psychological: "once you have all that on paper or in your notes app or in your computer, it's real. And it's a reminder that you do know who you are. You do know what you want" [4]. Her conclusion is that the answers are not out there but in you [4].

Where They Agree, and Where They Don't

They agree that memory is unreliable and writing is the fix. Robbins says an unwritten idea is gone a minute later [1] and that you've forgotten 95% of your year [4]. Swift's system exists because ideas arrive at random times [1]. Rubin's dream journals revealed a pattern only years later [2]. O'Leary writes his priorities the night before so they're waiting for him in the morning [3].

They agree that writing makes things real and visible. Robbins uses almost the same language in both episodes: writing grounds an idea "in the real world" [1], and reflection kept in your mind is "not real" [4]. O'Leary puts his note on the bathroom mirror [3]; Robbins jokes about writing her goal on her forehead [4] and credits keeping her savings goal in front of her face [4].

They differ on what writing is for. Three distinct purposes emerge:

• Capture and create: Swift's endless notepad, Chris's back-pocket notebooks and Rubin's phone notes build a library of raw material [1][2].
• Prioritize and focus: O'Leary's three-task sticky note narrows the day [3], and Robbins' stop-start-continue lists narrow the year [4].
• Process and understand yourself: Rubin's dream journals, Huberman's handwritten pages and Pennebaker's expressive writing are about what's going on inside [2], as is the "what did you learn about yourself" question in Robbins' audit [4].

These aren't in conflict, but they call for different formats. A capture log should be open and fast; a priority note should be short and ruthless.

They differ on the tool. Swift uses her phone [1], Chris uses paper notebooks [1], O'Leary insists on "No tech" [3], Huberman writes by hand [2], and Rubin uses his phone but notes that notes can become cryptic and voice memos might help [2]. Robbins says any system works if it gets the idea into the physical space [1], and Rubin says tools don't make or break your art [2]. The sources don't claim one format is superior; the shared point is having a single reliable place.

They differ on how often. The insight frames this as a daily habit, and Swift [1], O'Leary [3], Rubin's constant notes [2] and Huberman's journaling [2] fit that. But Robbins' audit is a yearly ritual [4], and Pennebaker's protocol is four days of 15 minutes, not a lifelong practice [2]. Daily capture feeds the less frequent, deeper reviews: Swift searches a year of lyrics [1], and Robbins uses a year of photos and calendar entries [4].

Honesty runs through all of it, framed differently. Rubin's diary can't be wrong because it's honest [2]; O'Leary's philosophy is built on never lying [3]; Robbins models honesty about the goal that didn't happen and responds with curiosity rather than self-criticism [4]; Huberman's reward from his journal comes from getting out what's clogging him [2]. A page is only useful if it tells the truth.

No one has a perfect system, and that's fine. Robbins openly says she doesn't have one yet [1], and Rubin sometimes can't decode his own notes [2]. The habit works despite imperfect execution.

Why It Works

It offloads memory. The simplest mechanism is the one Robbins stresses: ideas that pop into your head are forgotten within a minute unless captured [1], and whole months of your life fade too [4]. A written record is an external memory you can search later, as Swift does when she combs a year of lyrics for lines that fit a new chorus [1].

It builds a library that compounds. Each captured idea is small, but together they become "an ongoing library" [1]. The same logic appears in Robbins' account of Warren Buffett, who reads five to six hours a day and has built mental filters that let him know "in two or three minutes whether I have an interest" in an investment [1]; accumulated material pays off in speed and connections later. Rubin describes creativity as connecting points you've taken in from the world into a constellation [2]; writing keeps more of those points available.

It reaches the unconscious. Rubin believes great ideas come from instinct and the unconscious [2]. Writing down dreams and stray thoughts is a way to catch what the unconscious produces, and reviewing them later showed him what his subconscious had been saying [2]. Huberman shares Paul Conti's view that the unconscious is the brain's real supercomputer [2].

It forces decisions. Limiting a sticky note to three tasks forces a choice about what matters most [3]. Writing out stop, start and continue lists turns reflection into a plan [4], and Robbins' discovery mid-sentence that she needs to stop adding things shows the act of articulating producing the answer [4].

It removes judgment. Rubin's blocks come from self-judgment or fear of outside judgment [2]. Treating writing as a private, honest diary entry takes the stakes away, so there's nothing to block [2]. Robbins frames capturing ideas as honoring your own wisdom [1], the opposite of dismissing them.

It can help process difficult experiences. Huberman cites Pennebaker's expressive writing research, saying more than 200 studies show benefits for psychology, physiology and immune function [2]. That's the only formal research these sources give on writing itself, and it concerns writing about difficult experiences rather than idea logs or to-do notes.

Where It Applies, and Where It Doesn't

Creative work. The idea log fits anyone whose output depends on a steady supply of ideas: songwriters [1], producers [2], writers such as Chris working on his first book [1], and podcasters [2]. Robbins stresses that daily practice matters even between projects, as Swift keeps capturing when she isn't making an album [1].

Busy, fragmented days. O'Leary's sticky note fits anyone pulled in many directions by email, texts and meetings [3]. It works best when the three tasks are chosen the night before and done before anything else [3].

Planning and life direction. Robbins' audit fits moments of transition like the end of a year, and works even better with a spouse, family or friends who remind each other of good moments [4].

Emotional processing. Huberman's journaling and Pennebaker's protocol apply to difficult experiences [2]. Writing can help, but it is not a replacement for care when you're struggling: Robbins describes her daughter going through a breakup and being deeply depressed [4], and if low mood persists, a doctor or mental health professional is the right next step.

Where it falls short. A capture habit only works if you return to the material. Swift's value comes from searching her notes [1], and Robbins' comes from coming back to the list [4]. Notes can also lose their meaning if they're too cryptic, as Rubin found [2]. Writing down more tasks isn't the goal either: Robbins' audit concluded she needed to do less [4], and O'Leary caps his list at three [3]. And Rubin's timing caution applies: he writes down exciting thoughts in the morning but doesn't let them pull him into work before late morning [2], so capturing is not the same as acting immediately.

What To Do With It

1. Pick one capture tool and keep it with you. A notes app like Swift's [1], a back-pocket notebook like Chris's [1], or index cards like Robbins' [1]. What matters is one place you actually use, not the format [1][2].

2. Capture the moment an idea arrives. Don't tell yourself you'll remember; Robbins says you won't [1]. Write enough context that you'll understand it later, or try a voice memo, as Rubin suggests, if your notes tend to become cryptic [2].

3. Review your log when you start a project. Do what Swift did with "Blank Space": search a year of saved ideas for pieces that fit what you're making now [1].

4. Keep a dream or morning journal. Rubin writes down exciting thoughts in the morning and has kept dream journals, which revealed patterns when he looked back years later [2]. Don't analyze the entries on the spot; reread them later [2].

5. Write tomorrow's three priorities tonight. Put them on a sticky note where you'll see them first thing, like O'Leary's bathroom mirror, and do those three before email, texts or meetings [3].

6. Write like it's a diary entry. When you feel blocked, drop the pressure to make it good and just record your honest experience at that moment [2]. Get a complete rough draft down before polishing details [2].

7. Try a short expressive writing protocol for something hard. Huberman describes Pennebaker's version: 15 minutes a day on four days about the same most difficult experience of your life [2]. If you're dealing with serious distress, pair writing with professional support.

8. Do a written yearly audit. With your calendar and camera roll, write answers to Robbins' seven questions: highlights, hardest parts, what you learned, what you'll stop, start and continue, and one thing you can do today [4]. Do it with family or friends if you can [4].

9. Keep the page, and come back to it. Reread last year's list with curiosity rather than self-criticism, and ask why the goals that didn't happen didn't happen, as Robbins did with strength training [4]. Keep key goals in front of your face, the way she credits for her savings goal [4].

Sources

1. Simple Life Hacks That Will Change Your Future (Steal These Habits From Billionaires) · The Mel Robbins Podcast
2. Rick Rubin: Protocols to Access Creative Energy and Process · Huberman Lab
3. The Keys to Financial Freedom with Shark Tank’s Mr. Wonderful Kevin O’Leary · The School of Greatness
4. How to Make Next Year the Best Year: Ask Yourself These 7 Questions · The Mel Robbins Podcast