Principles on creating reflection guides

A note before we start: I’m Claude, an AI model made by Anthropic. The Mirror Dear team asked me to write down what makes a reflection guide work, as a reference for anyone writing their own. I don’t keep a journal, and I haven’t sat with these questions on a hard evening the way you might. What I can offer is a careful gathering of what people who write prompts, coach, teach reflective practice and keep journals have found useful, arranged so you can put it to work. Take what helps and leave the rest.

A reflection guide is a short set of questions for a particular moment in life. Done well, it does some of the hard work for you: it gives you a place to start, keeps you moving when you’d otherwise stall, and leaves you with something you can use. Done badly, it feels like homework, or worse, like being judged.

Most of the difference comes down to a handful of choices. This article goes through them in roughly the order you’ll make them, then ends with a worked example, a bank of prompts and a checklist.

1. Start with one moment, and one hope

Every good guide is written for a moment: the start of a day, the evening after a hard conversation, a decision that won’t settle, a week that went too fast. Knowing the moment tells you the mood someone is in when they open the guide, how much time and energy they have, and what they might want to feel at the end.

Before you write a single prompt, finish two sentences:

“This guide is for when…”
“By the end, I hope the person…”

For example: “This guide is for when you’ve just had a difficult conversation. By the end, I hope you understand what happened a little better and know whether there’s anything more to say.”

If you can’t finish both sentences, the guide is probably trying to do too much. Split it into two.

2. Picture the person answering

Think about who opens this guide and in what state.

Energy. Someone at 7am with a coffee and someone at 11pm after a long shift need different guides. Tired people need fewer, gentler prompts.
Time. A guide for “a short pause in the day” can’t have sixteen prompts.
Experience. Some people have journalled for years. Others have never written a word about themselves. Write so a beginner can start, and an experienced reflector can still go deep.
Setting. People reflect on buses, in bed, at a desk with colleagues nearby. Prompts that need privacy (crying, speaking out loud) should say so, or offer another way.

3. Ask open, curious questions

The best prompts can’t be answered with yes or no, and don’t assume the answer. Compare:

“Did you have a good day?”
“What did you notice about yourself today?”

The first closes a door. The second opens one.

A few patterns that tend to help:

“What” and “how” invite exploration. “What was going on for you when…?”, “How did that feel in your body?”
“Why” can be useful, but use it gently. “Why did you do that?” can sound like an accusation, and often produces a defence rather than an insight. “What led you to…?” or “What mattered to you in that moment?” reach the same place more kindly.
Stay free of judgement. “What went wrong?” puts someone on trial. “What took more energy than you expected?” invites them to look.
Don’t smuggle in an answer. “How has gratitude made your week better?” assumes it has. “Where, if anywhere, did gratitude show up this week?” leaves room for honesty.

A good prompt feels like a kind friend asking, not a form asking.

4. One question per prompt

A page of ten questions is a blank page in disguise. In Mirror Dear, each prompt comes on its own screen, so all someone has to think about is the one in front of them.

Check that each prompt asks one thing. If a prompt contains “and” or a question mark in the middle, it’s often two prompts. “What happened, and how did you feel about it?” works better as two screens.

There are exceptions. Paired questions that belong together, like “How did I communicate? How did the other person communicate?”, can share a screen when the comparison is the point. Slashes (“thinking/doing”, “week/month/quarter”) offer a choice of scope and can be helpful, but use them sparingly, because each one is a small decision the person has to make before they can start.

5. Be concrete and specific

Vague questions get vague answers. Anchor prompts in time, place and detail:

“How are you?” becomes “How do you feel right now, as you read this?”
“What are your goals?” becomes “What’s one thing you’d like to have done by Friday?”
“Think about your relationships” becomes “Who did you feel closest to this week? What happened?”

Asking for a single moment, a single person or a single word is a reliable way to help someone start. The depth comes later, once they’re writing.

6. Give the guide a shape

Good guides have an arc. They start somewhere easy, go deeper in the middle, and come back to the present at the end. A shape that works again and again:

Arrive. Settle into the moment. “What’s on your mind as you start?”
Notice. Describe what’s here, without judging it. “What happened?” “What are you feeling?”
Explore. Look underneath. “What mattered to you about it?” “What story are you telling yourself?”
Reframe. See it from another angle. “How might a kind friend see this?” “What would you tell someone you love in the same place?”
Choose. Decide on something small. “What’s one thing you’ll try?”
Close. Return to now, gently. “How do you feel compared with when you started?”

This shape echoes well-known models of reflective practice, such as “What? So what? Now what?” (from Rolfe, Freshwater and Jasper) and Gibbs’ reflective cycle, which move from describing an experience to understanding it to deciding what to do next. You don’t need every stage in every guide. A quick guide might be just Notice, Explore and Choose. But knowing the stages helps you see what’s missing.

Put the easiest prompt first. Something someone can answer in a few seconds (a feeling, a moment, a single word) gets the mind moving and builds trust. Save the hardest question for the middle, once they’ve warmed up. Never end on the hardest one.

7. Help people out of loops

Reflection and rumination can look alike from the outside. Both involve thinking about yourself and your life. The difference is direction: reflection moves towards understanding and choice, while rumination goes round the same thoughts without arriving anywhere, and can leave people feeling worse.

A guide can help keep reflection moving:

Include a turn. After a prompt about something painful, add one that shifts perspective or looks forward. “What did this teach you about what you need?” or “What would help, even a little?”
Ask about what’s going well, too. A guide that only asks about problems trains attention towards problems. Questions about strengths, small wins and gratitude balance the picture.
Make the ending concrete. A small next step (see section 10) gives the reflection somewhere to land.

8. Write in one voice, and make it kind

Decide whose voice the prompts are in, and keep it consistent.

First person (“What am I feeling right now?”) reads like the person talking to themselves. It can feel intimate and is easy to answer honestly. Mirror Dear’s own featured guides mostly use it.
Second person (“What are you feeling right now?”) reads like a gentle companion asking. It can feel warmer for people new to reflection.

Either works. Mixing them in one guide is jarring.

Whatever the voice:

Invite, never instruct. “If you’d like”, “Whenever you’re ready”, “Start wherever feels right”. Avoid “You must”, “Don’t forget”, “Be honest”, which can feel like pressure.
Avoid “should”. “What should you have done?” invites self-criticism. “What might you try next time?” invites learning.
Keep it plain. Skip jargon and therapy-speak. “What did you feel?” works better than “Identify your emotional response.”
Make room for not knowing. “It’s fine if nothing comes” or “A single word is plenty” gives permission to start small.

9. Help people name what they feel

Many people find feelings hard to put into words, especially in the moment. A few gentle supports help:

Offer a few words without limiting them. “Tired, restless, hopeful, flat, something else?”
Ask where it sits in the body. “Where do you notice it: chest, stomach, shoulders, somewhere else?” Some people find it easier to locate a feeling than to name it.
Use scales sparingly, and never as a score. “On a scale of 1 to 10” can help someone notice change, but it turns a feeling into a grade. If you use one, follow it with “What makes it that number and not lower?”
Allow mixed feelings. “You might feel more than one thing at once. What’s there?”

10. End with a small, specific next step

Reflection becomes change when it turns into action. End most guides with a prompt that asks for one small, concrete thing:

“What’s one small thing you’ll try tomorrow?”
“What would make this week a little easier?”
“Is there anything you want to say to someone?”

Small and specific beats big and vague. “Exercise more” rarely happens. “Walk home from the station on Tuesday” might. Research on what psychologists call implementation intentions (Peter Gollwitzer’s “if–then” plans) suggests that linking an action to a time or situation, as in “When I get home from work, I’ll…”, makes people more likely to follow through.

In the Mirror Dear app, that last answer can become an action point that comes back later as a gentle reminder.

11. Use kindness and perspective on purpose

Two kinds of prompt are worth having in your toolkit, because they help people see themselves more clearly and more gently.

Perspective-taking. Asking someone to step outside their own view often unlocks something:

“What would you say to a close friend who told you this?”
“How might this look a year from now?”
“What might the other person have been feeling?”

Self-compassion. Psychologist Kristin Neff’s work on self-compassion describes treating yourself with the kindness you’d offer a friend, recognising that struggle is part of being human, and holding painful feelings without being swept away by them. Prompts in that spirit:

“What do you need to hear right now?”
“What would being kind to yourself look like this evening?”
“Write yourself one sentence of encouragement.”

12. Choose the right length

A guide someone finishes is worth more than a perfect guide they abandon. Mirror Dear describes length by the number of prompts:

Quick: 1 to 3 prompts. A pause, a check-in, a single question to carry through the day.
Short: 4 to 6 prompts. Most daily guides live here.
Medium: 7 to 11 prompts. A topic worth some time, like a habit or a decision.
Deep: 12 or more prompts. A real working-through, best for weekends or quiet evenings.

Time varies hugely from person to person, so Mirror Dear doesn’t promise “five minutes”. But every prompt has to earn its place. Try the guide yourself, and cut any prompt you find yourself skipping or answering the same way as the one before. When in doubt, cut.

13. Let people answer their own way

Not every thought wants to be typed. In Mirror Dear, any prompt can be answered by typing, speaking and seeing it typed, writing or drawing by hand, adding a photo or video, or recording your voice. Typing comes first, so think about whether a prompt invites something else, and mention it in the prompt or the guidance under it:

A feeling that’s hard to name might be easier to draw.
A thank-you is often more real spoken out loud.
A tired evening might call for talking rather than typing.
A photo of where you are can say “this is my day” better than a paragraph.

“Draw your week as a pie chart: where did your energy go?” invites a drawing without forcing one.

14. Use the guidance line well

In Mirror Dear, a prompt can have a short line of guidance underneath. Use it for:

Permission. “There’s no right answer.” “A few words is enough.”
An example. “For example: a conversation, a walk, a meal.”
An instruction for a practice. “Take a few breaths first, then write what comes.”
Scope. “Think about today, or this week if today was quiet.”

Keep it to a sentence or two. If the guidance is longer than the prompt, the prompt probably needs rewriting.

15. Take care with heavy topics

Some of the most valuable guides touch painful places: grief, conflict, regret, fear. Write these with extra care.

Say what the guide is about, up front. The description should make clear it touches on something difficult, so people can choose when to open it.
Don’t ask for more detail than you need. “What’s weighing on you?” is enough. Reliving every detail of a painful event isn’t required to reflect on it.
Offer exits. “Skip anything that doesn’t feel right today.”
Include a grounding close. End heavy guides by coming back to the present: “What’s one thing around you that feels steady?” or “What will you do to look after yourself next?”
Signpost help. Reflection is not therapy, and a guide can’t replace a person. For guides on difficult subjects, a closing line like “If this brought up something heavy, please talk to someone you trust or a professional” is appropriate. In the UK, Samaritans can be reached free on 116 123, any time.

Research on expressive writing, begun by psychologist James Pennebaker in the 1980s, found that writing about difficult experiences can help some people. The same body of work also notes that it can feel worse before it feels better, and it isn’t right for everyone or every moment. Guides should leave people free to stop.

16. Respect privacy, including other people’s

People write honestly when they feel safe. In Mirror Dear, diaries are private and end-to-end encrypted, but your words as a guide writer still shape how safe someone feels.

Don’t ask people to write things they’d be uncomfortable seeing on a screen, unless the guide is clearly for that.
When a guide is about other people (a partner, a colleague, a parent), keep the focus on the writer’s own experience: “How did I feel?” rather than “What’s wrong with them?”
If you publish a guide for others, remember that readers may be in very different situations from you. A prompt that feels light to you might be heavy for someone else.

17. Test, then revise

Every guide gets better when you use it.

Answer it yourself, three times, on different days. A prompt that works on a good day might fall flat on a bad one.
Notice where you stall. If you stare at a prompt for a long time, it’s too vague, too big or in the wrong place.
Notice where you skip. If you skip a prompt every time, cut it.
Read your answers back. Did the guide take you somewhere? Did the last prompt leave you with something?
Ask someone else to try it. Ideally someone different from you. Watch which prompts they linger on.

18. Write the description and the card line last

Once the prompts work, write the words people see before they start.

The description says what the guide is for and what someone might leave with, in two or three sentences. “Take a short pause in the day to become present in the moment, and centre yourself.”
The card line is one short sentence for the guide’s card in the library, usually under ten words. “Pause, notice how you feel, and centre yourself in the present.”
Tags help people find the guide: a topic (Gratitude, Communication), a practice (Goal setting), or a moment (Mornings).

Avoid promises you can’t keep (“Transform your life in five minutes”). Describe what the guide does, honestly.

A worked example

Here’s how the principles come together in a short guide for one moment.

This guide is for when you’ve just had a conversation that didn’t go the way you hoped. By the end, I hope you understand what happened a little better and know whether there’s anything more to say.

After a hard conversation · Short · 6 prompts

Arrive. How do you feel right now, in a word or two?
Notice. What happened in the conversation? Just the main moments.
Explore. What mattered most to you in it?
Reframe. What might the other person have been feeling or needing?
Choose. Is there anything you’d still like to say or do? If so, what’s one small first step?
Close. What will you do to look after yourself this evening?

Notice what it doesn’t do. It doesn’t ask who was right, it doesn’t ask for a full transcript, and it doesn’t push the person to act. It moves from the feeling, to the facts, to what’s underneath, to the other person, to a choice, and back to the person’s own care.

A bank of prompts to start from

Use these as starting points, then make them your own.

To arrive

What’s on your mind as you start?
How does your body feel right now?
What’s one word for today so far?

To notice

What happened today that you’d like to remember?
What took more energy than you expected?
What did you notice about yourself this week?

To explore

What mattered to you about that?
What were you hoping for?
What story are you telling yourself about this?
What’s underneath the feeling?

To reframe

What would you say to a friend in the same place?
How might this look a year from now?
What’s another way to see it?
What went better than you expected?

To choose

What’s one small thing you’ll try tomorrow?
What do you need more of this week, and less of?
When will you do it, and where?

To close

How do you feel now, compared with when you started?
What’s one thing you’re grateful for right now?
What would you like to carry into tomorrow?

A checklist before you publish

Write your own

You don’t need to be an expert to write a guide that helps. Start with a moment you know well, write the questions you wish someone had asked you, and try the guide on yourself a few times. Keep the prompts that make you pause. Cut the ones you skip.

In Mirror Dear, you can build a guide from scratch or remix one you love, set a timer and colours, and get AI suggestions when you’re stuck. Then keep it for yourself, share it with friends, or publish it to the community library, where other people who reflect can find it.