The centre rings - A Filofax exploration
“In the 1980s and 1990s the Filofax ‘personal organiser’ swept large swathes of the world with its chunky leather ring-bound folders and loose-leaf inserts (..) The Filofax was a classic yuppie accessory (...) Its core market of professionals, inevitably, transitioned to digital devices, but the Filofax has found a new audience among a generation of journal-keepers who treat it more like a scrapbook.”
I'd never heard of Filofax until very recently, from that brief passage in Roland Allen's book. The blind spot is understandable: in my goth/grunge, smoke-heavy hemisphere, those years were about chaos—planner-carrying Yuppies wouldn't have registered ;)
The company's personal organizers are still around and I understand the appeal: for designers, wedding planners, hobbyists; anyone who needs to mix and match physical notes, swatches, pictures or cards in a sleek binder that doesn't scream Office Depot? Perfection.
But I started experimenting with a Filofax system about two months ago, using another line of products: their more recent (and vastly more economical) refillable notebooks.
Red and sunny.
The concept is the same: just like any ring-binder you can take pages in and out, move them around, swap them etc. That's basically the entire point. But these notebooks use a different implementation: instead of three large rings that open and close, they use pre-punched paper with eight small holes and individual slits. The rings are fixed and it's these slits that make the magic happen, allowing sheets to easily be removed and inserted at will. I say sheets, but it goes further than just paper: the model I purchased included a ruler/page marker, and a set of dividers—all moveable. You can also go full Bujo with repositionable sheets of stickers, or sticky notes. Cue the scrapbooking crowd.
Those A5 notebooks come with ruled paper, so I sprang for the company's Activity Planner and Dotted Journal refills, to test the possibilities and customize the setup to my own tastes. The result: I'm kind of loving this.
Flow
It took me several days to wrap my head around how I was going to use the Filofax. Would moving pages around actually prove useful? Plus, I needed to figure out where to fit this into a hybrid system (alongside Things on the digital end). I've always resisted duplicating entries across paper and screen but I now realize this was part stubbornness, part laziness. Writing solidifies tasks and ideas, while digital allows for easy access, backups and reminders. They're not mutually exclusive. Some tasks benefit from an overlap, while others are better suited to one or the other. Accepting this provided the missing key.
I've been planning my weeks with Things, the A5 notebook, and a pocketbook to bring all tasks, projects, and ideas together. Anything scheduled ends up in both systems (digital and physical), but I'm seeing real advantages to using the Filofax on its own as well, slowly weaning myself off of the-Cloud-at-all-costs frame of mind.
Case in point: I'm working on a new book. As usual there's a project in both Things and Bear, with a well-defined set of steps, links, and notes. But I'm now also constantly brainstorming on dotted pages in the Filofax. I circle and cross out words, write down everything that comes to mind as I work. I use coloured pencils to highlight anything important and I add tasks anywhere on the page, with clear symbols that make them easy to spot. It's all a huge mess, but there's a topography to it that prevents me from getting lost. Those pages are living spaces, with identifiable rooms and corridors and brightly hued furniture. And they also move, in and out of my weekly plan: in on project days, out when I'm done. This might seem silly, even unnecessary, but it reminds me of the ritual that surrounds vinyl records, where tactile actions open up a unique mind-space. Our brains evolved through touch, they connect to the physical world. Moving project pages to the planner section acts as a trigger: it's time to think about the book buddy. The action kickstarts the process and defines the project as the primary task. Also, unlike a "typical" notebook, loose-leaf pages can be kept together as a project expands and notes are added. That was always a problem for me: I'd end up with various projects scattered across pages.
Here’s an excerpt from my journal after my first full day with this system:
There's a real solidification to using the Filofax throughout the day. A solidifying of memory and intention. The mix of reference and constant brainstorming feels...exhilarating. Like an active conversation with the work.
I said earlier that I was experimenting with refillable notebooks—plural. That's because I recently replaced the standard craft pocketbook I'd been using (see The Chair and the Aqua-Lung) with a similar-sized version from Filofax. Same concept, smaller footprint. With this addition, the conversation is even more active: not only can I use this small notebook as a reference, but any page can also be temporarily transferred to my main notebook—the two formats are compatible.
A pocketbook page inserted in the main notebook.
I'm still debating how to proceed with this as a long-term strategy. I could obviously replace pages as I go, but I'm still too much of a pack-rat to accept anything that fleeting. Right now I'm thinking of getting a new main notebook every year, and archiving the previous one. I'd also move all completed pocketbook pages to this archive, and use the included dividers to file everything in its proper section (plans, projects, pocketbook notes). Any empty pages would be transferred to the new notebook. It sounds reasonable, but we'll see. I do like the idea of "ending" a notebook without wasting pages, and there's an order to this system that I'm genuinely excited about.
I also plan on making my own A5 refills. The company sells a hole-punch that's way too expensive for what it is, but would likely pay for itself in the long run while also allowing me to create my own templates as needed. I've already prepared an Activity Planner/todo template that's ready to print.
...
Interestingly, my stated intention of using paper to slow down is in fact speeding up the creative process: despite adding moving parts, everything is more focused, deliberate and, ultimately, more effective. The doodling and colouring, or duplicating entries between analog and digital, sometimes even across notebooks...these are not wasted activities. They feed curiosity and propel ideas forward, further defining goals with each successive pass. It's hard to explain, but it's as if touching has reconnected me with clarity.
Less fuzziness, more grip.
