Haiku Journaling: See the Ordinary, Differently

I moved from California freeways to Japan six years ago, chasing quiet and finding it in seventeen syllables. Haiku isn’t just a poem; it’s my daily brain-puzzle and pocket-sized meditation. If you’ve ever thought poetry was too precious—or journaling too time-consuming—give me three short lines and a couple of minutes.

Below is the exact routine I use each morning while the kettle boils. No syllable-counting apps, no incense required—just attention.

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The Three-Step Haiku Drill

1. Sit & Notice

Park yourself—park bench, subway seat, desk chair. Breathe. Give the room five unhurried minutes to introduce itself. When something tugs at your eyes, name it: a chipped mug, a restless crow, a neon exit sign.

Example object: cracked coffee cup

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2. Trace the Connections

Ask how that object links to the rest of the scene—and to you. Does the cracked cup echo your deadlines? Does its steam braid with city noise? Write a single line that spells out one connection, no more.

Line two: steam curls like slow thoughts

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3. Flip the Lens

Force a fresh angle: imagine the object from a sparrow’s view, from three years in the future, from the moon. What unseen meaning snaps into focus? Capture it in as few words as possible.

Line three: Monday lasts longer

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First Draft, Done

cracked coffee cup
steam curls like slow thoughts—
Monday lasts longer

You just wrote a haiku before your coffee cooled.

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Why This Works

• Speed smashes resistance. A one-minute ritual beats a five-page diary you’ll quit next week.
• Attention breeds devotion. The tighter you zoom, the clearer life’s texture gets.
• Perspective training. Step 3 forces you to pivot viewpoints—mental stretching for creative muscles.

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Level-Up Haiku Prompts

• Monday – What’s broken but still useful?
• Tuesday – Which sound repeats all morning?
• Wednesday – One color that refuses to hide today?
• Thursday – The smallest living thing in sight?
• Friday – Which object would baffle an alien archaeologist?
• Saturday – A tiny shadow that moves when you breathe?
• Sunday – Something ordinary that suddenly feels ancient?

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Common Roadblocks, Solved

“I’m not poetic.” Neither is asphalt, yet it glitters after rain.

“I keep counting syllables.” Breathe instead; edit later if you care.

“My haiku are awful.” Good. Bad poems are compost for better ones.

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Frequently Asked Questions

Do I have to count syllables?

Not unless you love math. Focus on three short lines.

Will haiku journaling cure my anxiety?

It helps manage stress; it’s not a standalone medical treatment.

How many haiku should I write per day?

One solid poem beats ten rushed ones. Aim for a daily single, then stop; extra spark? Write another, but don’t turn it into homework.

Updated on: Jun 1, 2025