Be Your Own Case Study. The underrated power of journaling like… | by Oluodo Ayomide | Aug, 2025

A few months ago, I would’ve told you about the importance of keeping journals.
In fact, I’m pretty sure you’d find one or two things about it in my previous letters.

I still believe it’s deeply relevant, in a world full of consumption, to have a creative release in some way. Sometimes that release looks like writing about your daily life, your thoughts, insights, or bits of discovery about yourself. It could be a journal, a diary, or personal notes. I I think you have to write your goals down, your fears, your aspirations, your plans. It helps keep you sane, and keeps your attention focused on what truly matters and helps you flesh out things that don’t. Sometimes seeing that unit of idea or fear on paper is all it takes to demystify it and gain serious clarity, both in the process of writing and after writing. Some people even use social media as that journaling platform, and if that works for you, absolutely.

But it’s also important to read through those writings, intentionally, and sometimes even spontaneously.
Sometimes I read the journal I kept when I was 13 or 14, and I can draw parallels and contrasts, look at how I’ve grown, do a deep review of my journey, even reconnect with lessons I may have forgotten.

It’s quite humbling to see that whatever you were rambling about last year is still an issue in your life now, and you’ve forgotten the lesson.

Recently, I found myself getting into a rut.
I was watching a video randomly and wanted to take notes. As I flipped through the pages, I landed on an old entry detailing my escapist attitude. Whenever I’m trying to avoid the negative emotions associated with work, even if the work isn’t hard or overwhelming, as soon as I sense any form of resistance or discomfort, I log out.

I was supposed to be working on a design presentation, and instead I was watching videos.
Yes, I might learn something from the video, but I’d still be behind on the task.

That, right there, is what I call productive procrastination.
I did it so much last year. I compiled so much knowledge without application, just insights, articles, podcasts, when I was supposed to be building, shipping, and proving. This was a deeply painful realization, and a truth I am still trying to incorporate in my life daily.

I thought I had learnt enough not to fall into the same trap again, but there I was.
Luckily, my own writing saved me.

This spurred a deeper realization: A theory if you will.
There’s a difference between intentional problem-solving and ingrained problem-solving.

As you journey through life, you start to see patterns, but if you’re not paying attention, they stay hidden.
You might face the same core problem again and again, just in different formats. You “solve” it each time, sure, but never truly understand the root.
That’s unintentional problem-solving.

But an intentional problem solver?
They document. They scope. They study the problem’s context. They understand its variations.
And when it comes again, they solve it better, faster, cleaner. They can even strip it of its context and give you core principles that apply anywhere.

The unintentional solver?
They gain expertise by exposure, but they can’t teach it. They can’t explain it.
They stumbled on the solution through chaos, not by design. So when someone else faces a similar issue, they can’t offer grounded guidance.

The first guy gives you the framework.
The second guy just has vibes and a very strong story, howbeit a strong problem solving ability, nonetheless.

And most times, the first guy documents. He learns with intention. He doesn’t stumble into clarity, he builds it.

This is your call to gamify your life.
To be more experimental. To treat it like a playground.
You’ll have speed. You’ll have clarity. You’ll understand life — not just feel it.

And honestly, that’s the real secret. Not just solving the problem, but understanding the kind of problem it is.

Most people think they’re bad at solving problems, when in reality, they’re just bad at spotting patterns.

Because life repeats itself. Just with better disguises.

It’s not always obvious that the thing frustrating you today is just an upgraded version of the same thing from three years ago. And if you’re not paying attention, if you’re not documenting, reviewing, revisiting, you’ll miss it. You’ll keep solving it from scratch like it’s brand new.

I think that’s the real cost of not documenting your patterns. It robs you of the ability to be deeply intentional with your life. You still move, still grow, but without the compound effect that comes from pattern recognition. That marginal difference? It builds up into massive clarity over time.

And that’s what journaling has done for me. It saved me, literally.
It helps me reference both the past and the future, tracking how I thought, what I tried, how I failed, how I bounced back. I’ve been able to trace how I dream. And that gives me courage to build, to start, to believe in my ability to figure it out as I go. It’s how I make peace with where I am while confidently looking forward to where I’m headed.

Plus, it gives me a cohesive story.
At any point in my life, I can connect the dots backwards with context, clarity, and continuity.

Now when I say “gamify your life,” I get that it can sound a little robotic. We’re humans, not Sims.
But I don’t mean turning life into a competition or reducing yourself to KPIs.

What I mean is designing a more playful, adaptive, experimental way of being. Thinking in terms of “levels”, not necessarily linear progress, but areas of exploration with minimal downside and massive upside. That’s the key: optionality. And this principle doesn’t have to be applied across every aspect of your life, just ones that matter and you feel like it needs it.

Set challenges. Create tiny experiments. Try things with stakes low enough that failure feels funny, not fatal.

This is especially important when you realise the difference between people who solve problems out of instinct and those who solve with intention.
Most people fall into the first category — ingrained solvers. And it’s valid.
As human beings, we naturally develop inner heuristics, gut feelings, internal models. We respond, we adapt. And that has its place and is by no means small or trivial.

But intentional solvers, they’re different. They build transferable skill.
Because they’re tracking patterns, they’re testing and documenting and analyzing.
They don’t just solve, they understand.
And that understanding allows them to teach, to transfer, to strip context and offer principles anyone can apply. They’re the ones who can tell the story cleanly and draw the lesson clearly, because they’ve tested enough to know what’s ”them”… and what’s universal.

That’s the difference. Both types can be effective.
But only one can scale it, teach it, replicate it, evolve it.

So the question is, which one are you? Which one would you like to be?
And if you’re not where you want to be yet, are you at least keeping record?

Because growth without memory is just movement.
And if you’re always moving but not remembering, what’s the point?