The OffBeat #53: How to Untangle Your Mental Cables With a Brain Dump

Including an editable template

A million years ago in Brooklyn, a friend invited me to a dinner-slash-writing party at someone’s apartment in Williamsburg. It was the heyday of experimental supper clubs, which have thankfully phoenixed themselves from the ashes of COVID (there are some excellent ones here in Philly). They were all the rage in the mid to late 2010s in NYC. A passionate hobbyist chef would design a menu around a theme, gather a group of relative strangers in their home, and communal connection over home cooking would ensue.

There were no Health Department regulations or OSHA safety standards, but the beautiful serendipity of convening with like-minded (or, intentionally unlike-minded) people in a warm environment for an alluringly fleeting experience was worth it.

In this case the structure of the evening was built around not just food, but a creative writing exercise. Mid-meal we broke into groups of three or four, nestled into various alcoves and corners of the apartment. We were handed a notebook and pen and told to write independently for twenty minutes. I can’t remember the prompt, although I know it was vague, but I distinctly recall the paralysis of writer’s block. It’s not that I need intensely particular conditions to write fluidly (trying to write, edit, and publish two OffBeats a month with a toddler nearby has protein-powdered my can-write-anywhere-anytime skills). I just felt completely blocked from the ability to “freewrite.” It might have been the longhand, versus using a laptop, or else the pressure of being asked to “perform” creativity amongst a group of expectant strangers. I sort of half-heartedly attempted to write a few sentences but I remember spending the rest of the writing period literally scribbling gobbledygook so as to appear as industrious as the others around me.

When it came time to share—we were meant to partner up and read the contents of our notebooks to one another—I was forced to pretend I was too bashful to expose my vulnerable work. The reality was if I read aloud what the pages held, it would be a combination of miscellaneous to-do list items and unintelligible translation of doodles.

So, freewriting: not really for me. Natalie Goldberg’s iconic Writing Down the Bones covers the practice of writing from “first thoughts” (keep your hand moving, don’t cross out, just get it on paper). I tried it a few times. That never worked for me either.

BUT: the exercise of dumping your brain out onto the page has long resonated with me when it comes to organizing my mind. For many years I’ve used a “brain dump” practice when I feel like I need WD-40 for my mental gears.

What’s a brain dump?

It’s like downloading the cluttered contents of your head onto a clean external drive and sorting it all into labeled folders. Or, more in OffBeat terms, it’s akin to untangling audio cables during soundcheck pre-performance. It’s sort of like freewriting, or journaling, but (for me, at least) with the express purpose of getting my mind straight in order to reassert mastery over my workload.

Some people leverage it as a to-do-list generator or refiner; others (🙋‍♀️) use it as a mind-clearer unrelated to my task roster. It’s more like a gut check that I’m spending energy in the right areas; for example, if a bunch of items pop in my brain dump related to, say, self-care then I’ll probably make an effort in the upcoming weeks to watch less TV and read more, or I’ll tighten the screws on my (aspirationally) near-daily meditation habit.

Why do a brain dump?

There’s been some research on the mental health benefits of brain dumping. I find it decreases cognitive load and reduces stress. It’s kind of like “mise en place” for intellectual labor: you prep and lay out all the ingredients and equipment for your recipe (i.e. projects and tasks) up front so cooking (i.e. executing) is more efficient.

How do you do a brain dump?

People do it weekly, daily, monthly, or quarterly depending on the rhythms of their work and life. I do it ad hoc, whenever my plate feels overfull.

Some people approach a brain dump like freewriting, filling their notebook, phone note, or laptop doc with notes and thoughts as they come—pressing work deadlines, random around-the-house to-do’s; a mix of altitudes across areas of life, whatever miscellany is clogging your brain gutters. Then, once the flow’s stopped, they either do or don’t catalog everything (money, health, pets, spring cleaning, etc.) then do or don’t determine execution steps based on what they captured. You can use a brain dump as an action-plan tool, or simply as a meditative mind-clearer.

My personal take: Since, as we’ve established, freewriting is not my vibe, I dump thoughts by pre-ordained category (usually takes about 5-7 minutes); then I highlight or star the individual items that bubble to the top. I do this by gut instinct, like reflecting on what sparks joy Marie-Kondo-style. Then I’ll usually make a quick list at the bottom of what I can deprioritize in my brain, i.e. the things I didn’t highlight or star. Something about expressing the full contents of my brain, then giving myself permission to let some go, clears my head effectively.

I’ve done brain dumps free-hand in a notebook, and in an empty Google Doc. Both are effective.

Below, for paid subscribers, an editable brain dump template to try it out for yourself.