My Notebooks

There is something special about filling an entire notebook. A bitter sweet joy that brings excitement and a sense of a task finally completed. I keep each one like a sacred token to my past, each one representing a chapter in my life. Every note and passage I reread transports me to a forgotten time. Christmas lists and birthday plans, random lyrics and creative narratives. Each page is different from the last, each one carrying a picture to the past.

The process usually goes the same. The fear of living a paperless life drives me to stay well stocked with an oversupply. Long before my stash runs low, I began searching for my next notebook to be. It must be the right size, shape and style. Not too thick, not too thin, sometimes the search can take months. Once I finally deem one worthy I bring it home and add it to my collection.  I choose the next one not by chronological order, but by whatever one suits the current mood.

The excitement of a fresh notebook is always the same. All the endless possibilities that could fill each page causes something inside of me to activate and come alive. The feeling never gets old, never fades, no matter how many notebooks I cycle through. Before I retire one and start another, I must follow an age old ritual. The tedious tasks of scanning each and every page for useful information. To do lists that still needed completed. Travel plans that still need visited. Important dates and notes to remember. Poems started but never finished. Stories plotted but not quite told. Each page has memories embedded into each paragraph. A little tiny reflection of my blessed little life. This process always provides me with a great retrospection and a sense of nostalgia.

After I have ensured every vital piece of information is transferred over to my new imagination station, I then put the old one on a shelf next to my other retired notebooks. This process is always the same and always brings me joy and satisfaction. A part of me hopes this never fades and one day my children or grandchildren will leaf through them, carrying on the same zeal for writing.

My notebooks always have too many tabs sticking out that only I know the purpose of. Most people would take a leaf through and see random to do lists and unfinished creative writings. I see an organization system that makes sense to me, enveloped in zeal, inspiration and ME!  As a mother there are not a whole lot of material things I claim as all mine, but my notebooks I proudly claim.