Last Christmas, I asked Santa for a new Franklin Planner and a beautiful leather binder. I must have been on the nice list, because on Christmas morning, there they were under the tree. Just what I’d asked for.

For those of you who are wondering what a Franklin Planner is, it’s a paper planning system that was originated by Franklin-Covey and still exists today as Franklin.

Planner Introduction

My introduction to Franklin Planners occurred when I was a young adult, and my father was given a Franklin Planner by his employer. He was a supervisor at the forging plant he’d worked at since he was 19 years old. I remember him showing us the planner, the philosophy of how to use it, and how he planned to use it. Listening to him describe the planner philosophy, I wasn’t sure how he was going to use it, because my dad was not one to plan like that. When he had a project, he made a list of what was needed and then he planned when the project was going to happen. My dad transitioned out of the supervisor role and into a new role in the forging plant, and his planner was set aside, not to be used by him again.

Earning My Own

That introduction fueled my desire for my own planner. I secretly borrowed my dad’s, so I could get a good look at it, and it was like a siren calling me, fueling my desire for a job that would warrant one of my own. Eventually that day came, and I got my own planner. I had arrived. I was a grown-up who needed a planner, so I invested in my own Franklin Planner, which I used daily. I was diligent in planning my tasks and listing my appointments and deadlines.

At first, I didn’t feel like I deserved a planner like my Franklin. Somewhere along the way, I equated the planner with legitimacy. As if needing one meant I had finally arrived.

As I said, I was diligent in using my Franklin Planner. In addition, to planning my tasks and listing my appointments and deadlines, I kept all my contacts on its pages, brought it to every meeting, and filled it with notes. My Franklin Planner was an integral part of my workday. I was using it like my dad had described when he showed it to us.

The Golden Era of Paper Planning

Of course, this was back in the olden days before there was an app for everything like there is today. Eventually, I was using it for both my professional life and my personal life, which is how the Franklin Planner was intended to be used. The whole point was to integrate everything into one place. It took me a while to get there mostly because I didn’t see myself as someone that important who would need to do that. As my children got older, it quickly became evident if I was going to keep everything straight, I was going to need to keep everything in one place, my Franklin Planner.

Somehow the act of physically writing everything in my planner made everything seem far more real than today’s apps. Maybe it was the act of writing things down or maybe it was having a physical binder that I carried with me, but whatever it was, my Franklin Planner was my trusty sidekick. It was everything I could ever need, or so I thought.

The Dawn of Digital

Then the internet took off. Smartphones arrived. Apps multiplied. Calendars became digital, notes were typed or recorded, and even memory itself felt outsourced. Today, there’s an AI for just about everything, as I’m learning. I admit, I was resistive to digital tools initially. I stayed true to my Franklin Planner. While others typed notes on digital devices, I continued to write notes in my planner. Until I didn’t.

Slowly, I started noting my appointments in the calendar on my smartphone. Then I was taking notes digitally as well. First using my laptop and now using my smartphone.

I haven’t graduated to recording my meetings…yet, but I know it won’t be long until I do. It’s becoming increasingly clear that to not do so means I may miss something critical. The growing number of digital tools, especially AI, makes it easier than ever to plan, track, and capture information.

Coming Full Circle

And yet I still longed for the feel of my Franklin Planner. So last Christmas, I came full circle.

I started strong in January. Each Sunday evening, I’d spend 30 minutes mapping out my week. Every night, I’d plan the next day’s priorities, labeling my A, B, and C tasks like a seasoned Franklin devotee. If you know, you know. This dedication to planning grounded me and gave me a sense of control over the coming day or week. At least until something came along and upended things.

I was so proud to be a Franklin Planner owner and user again. I carried it into meetings to take notes, made sure my appointments, meetings, and deadlines were logged, and I even did some goal setting for 2026.

Flip through my January and early February pages and you’ll see: I was on fire. Then… I wasn’t.

Fading

Slowly, the rhythm slipped. Digital tools crept back in. My phone, always nearby, won the convenience war. It’s a Samsung S25 Ultra, after all, with a stylus and everything. I can write or type notes, and it’s easier to carry around than the planner.

As much as I wanted the old paper planner, the reality is the digital tools are far more convenient. It’s simpler to grab my smartphone to add that new appointment or deadline and then transfer it to my work calendar so my team is aware I’ll be out.

My Quiet Companion

The truth? I love my Franklin Planner. I just don’t use it every day like I planned to. But it’s still here. Quietly waiting. No judgment. No reminders. Just presence. It’s the best friend ever. It’s there with no judgment, no matter how much time passes before I pick it up again. In a way, it models the kind of steadiness I try to bring to my own work.

My Franklin Planner is my reminder of who I once wanted to be, someone important enough to need a Franklin Planner.

Maybe that’s what I love most about my Franklin Planner. It reminds me that order, intention, and reflection still matter. Even in a world that rewards speed, automation, and constant responsiveness, there’s still value in slowing down long enough to think.

Maybe it’s not about paper or digital at all. Maybe it’s about choosing the tools that help us show up intentionally and giving ourselves permission to evolve.

In a profession built on deadlines and details, the tools may change, but the need for intentional planning never does.

How about you? Did you ever have a planner you loved, one that smelled like ink and leather, cradling your ambitions in its pages? Is it tucked in a drawer somewhere, or do you still use it?

I’d love to hear your story.