The Surprising Secret to a Meaningful Note-Taking System

More notes don’t mean better notes. What really matters? The Gospel of John helped me see how to choose wisely.

What makes something worthy of becoming a permanent part of my system—or of being shared with others?

It’s the question that quietly haunts every deep thinker, note-taker, and idea hoarder.

We collect so much. Quotes. Highlights. Half-finished thoughts.

But what actually deserves a room in the system?

What gets developed and shared—and what stays tucked away in the attic?

I didn’t expect to find insight on that in the Gospel of John.

But there it was—tucked near the end of chapter 20:

“Jesus did many other signs in the presence of the disciples, which are not written in this book; but these are written so that you may believe…” — John 20:30–31

Wait.

There were more miracles? More moments?

And John intentionally left them out?

That’s not oversight. That’s discernment.

And it made me wonder if we’ve been thinking about note-taking all wrong.

Not Everything Gets Written Down

John saw so much more than he recorded.

He followed Jesus for years. He was there for private conversations, surprise healings, unrecorded signs.

But when it came time to write, he didn’t write it all.

He selected.

“These are written so that you may believe…”

He had a clear purpose.

He wasn’t just archiving spiritual memories—he was building something intentional that would lead others to belief, and to life.

That’s exactly how effective note-taking works.

Curating With Purpose

We love to collect. It’s part of how our brains work.

But effective note-taking is not about hoarding every highlight.

It’s about:

• noticing what sparks something

• developing what connects across time

• holding space for what leads somewhere meaningful

In my own system, most ideas start as quick captures—fleeting porch thoughts.

But only a few earn the right to be expanded, shaped, and shared.

John was doing the same thing.

He walked through the archives of memory and only wrote what would help his readers see something true, vital, and eternal.

He was writing for transformation, not documentation.

The Deeper Practice

So here’s the shift I’m making:

I’m not asking, “Is this interesting?”

I’m asking:

• Does this want to be developed?

• Does it carry weight?

• Might this help someone else believe, or live, or see more clearly?

Because maybe note-taking isn’t just about remembering. Maybe it’s about building something purposeful. And maybe the most powerful ideas aren’t the ones we captured, but the ones we chose to carry forward.

How do you decide which ideas to keep and which to ignore?

Have you ever had a note or insight that waited quietly for years, then suddenly came to life?

Drop a comment or reply—I’d love to hear your process.

Till next time,

Greg