The plan
The winter arc plan, on one page
This is the whole ninety days, written out so you can copy it into any notebook. It is the plan the journal is built from, and you are welcome to run it without buying anything. It has five parts. One evening to set the arc, one page a day, one review a week, one honest page in the middle, and three pages at the end.
The shape of ninety days
| When | What | How long |
|---|---|---|
| The evening before Day One | Set the arc. Identity line, three pillars, five rules, the before snapshot. | One evening |
| Every day, 1 to 90 | The daily page. Three tasks in the morning, five boxes and one line at night. | Two minutes |
| End of every week | The review. What held, what slipped, the one change. | Ten minutes |
| Day 45 | The halfway page. Read Day One first, then write straight. | Twenty minutes |
| Day 90 | The after snapshot, a letter to January, and what survives. | One evening |
The setup evening
Do this before Day One, not on it. Sit down with the notebook and write four things.
Who is finishing this year. One sentence, in the present tense, about the person you intend to be on December 31st. Then a line on why now, and a line on what you are refusing this winter. Write the dates of Day One and Day 90 underneath so they are real.
Three pillars. Most arcs choose a body pillar, a mind pillar, and a craft or money pillar. For each one write the target you will hold up on Day 90, and the daily minimum that keeps it alive. The minimum matters more than the target. The target is where you are going. The minimum is what you do on the days you cannot face going anywhere.
Five rules. Daily, yes or no, keepable on your worst day, and yours. There is a whole page on writing them. Write them in ink.
The before snapshot. The numbers you will want on Day 90, taken now while they are still honest, and one plain paragraph about where you actually are today. How to take a before you will trust is here.
The daily page
One page per day, numbered. It takes about two minutes and it is split in two. In the morning, with the coffee, write your three tasks for the day. At night, before the phone goes down, tick your five rules, write one line, and note the first thing you will do tomorrow. Here is the page, in plain text, to copy.
DAY __ of 90 Date ______ My three tasks 1. 2. 3. My five rules [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] What I did today that my January self will thank me for Rules kept today o o o o o First thing tomorrow: Field notes
The one line is the heart of the page. Not what you did, which the boxes already say, but the one thing your January self will be glad of. Some nights it is a big thing. Most nights it is small, and that is the point. Ninety small things is an arc.
The weekly review
Every seventh day, ten minutes, Sunday night for most people. The reviews are where the arc actually bends, because they are the only place you are allowed to change the plan.
WEEK __ REVIEW What went well this week What slipped, and why One line on each pillar Pillar one: Pillar two: Pillar three: The one change for next week Days kept this week [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] Loose thoughts from the week
One change. Not five. If a rule is wrong, this is where you fix it, on purpose and in writing. If it is right and you just did not keep it, say so, and leave it alone.
Day 45, the honest middle
The middle is where arcs are won. The novelty has gone, January is still far away, and the only fuel left is the record behind you. Before you write a word on this page, go back and read your Day One pages. Then answer four things straight. What the first half proved about you. The rule you have kept best and the rule that needs rescuing. Whether you are actually holding the pillars or just going through the motions. And one sentence for the second half.
The close
Day 90 gets three pages. First the after snapshot, which is the same numbers you took at the start, ninety days later, and each Day 90 target marked held, partial or missed, written straight. Then a letter to the person who wakes up on New Year's Day, telling them what these ninety days cost and what you hope they have made possible. And last, one question. What survives the arc? Somewhere in the pages are two or three practices that stopped being rules and became you. Name them. They are what you keep.
A routine that survives a real week
The plan fails when it depends on a perfect day, so tie it to things that happen anyway. The morning page goes with the first coffee. The night page goes with the last thing before the phone is put down, and it goes before the phone, not after, because after never comes. The review goes with Sunday night. Keep the notebook where you actually sit, not in a drawer.
If you work shifts, tie the pages to sleeping and waking instead of the clock, and write your rules the same way. If you are a student, the craft pillar is the course, the daily minimum is a fixed block at the desk, and the halfway page will land somewhere around the middle of term, which is exactly when you will need it.
People ask for a winter arc timetable, with the day cut into hours. A timetable is the first thing that breaks when real life turns up. Rules and minimums bend without breaking, which is why the plan is built on those instead. If you want the whole thing already laid out and numbered, with a page for each of the ninety days, that is the journal below.
FROST
AURORA
MEMENTO VIVERE