Reflecting on the pen

Ok, - this is going to be long - So please stick with me:

Last year (September 2015)  I got a 2016 hobonichi - its a dated notebook made with tomoe river paper. (A specialty Japanese paper that works wonderfully well with fountain pens.)   Some how I had the forethought to jot down a reminder for myself that on this date I had gotten my vanishing point back from Pilot Pen USA.  So when I had opened up my notebook I saw this note. The reason I was opening up the page was so that I could make an entry regarding the new 2016 Limited Edition Pilot Vanishing Point I won from Anderson Pens on Fountain Pen day

 Two vanishing point gotcha reminders now.

Quite interesting how things have changed from one year to the next.  There has been a lot of things that has gone on in my life over the last two years. But the last year I think the one consistent thing has been my enjoyment of my fountain pens.  These tools - with sharp pointy bits that can leave marks on the page. Just something about it that I find thoroughly satisfying. Even when words fail me, or when I don't have much to really say at all. I can still find something every day to jot a note about.

 Last year I had gotten this black vanishing point. It was simple - rather plain. Nothing as stunning as the ombre colored 2015 Twilight vanishing point that went from blue into purple.  I jokingly called mine the "Midnight" - and you know what I didn't have to seek out an ink color to match my pen. I could match any color with a black pen.  But this pen was new, and it was nice.  Normally this pen runs for about $175 msrp - and often found around $140 =- which is a bit out of my price range.  The limited edition pen is $240 msrp - and found for $192 - So my matte black "midnight" was a really good price at $72 - which is still more for a pen than most folks would ever spend.

Though you see, I had a problem. For some reaosn I would not allow myself permission to use the nice pretty pen.  I would stick to using my lesser pens.  I've always done that. When Ever I would get more than one of something - i would always use the one I liked the least first - so i could use it up and get it over with. Some how to savor the better version.  Sadly by the time I would use that version, it would no longer be any good, or it would get lost along the way. SO it never was properly enjoyed. Same thing was happening here with this pen.  I actually had regreted getting a pen that I wasn't going to use. I mean I really did like the pen - but it was too nice to take with me anywhere. Too nice to use it too much in fear of wearing it out.  Then what it really came down to the fact I didn't feel I was worthy to use nice things.

This might be very difficult to understand.

That I some how valued myself so little that I shouldn't have gotten something so extravagant. Yes, even something as simple as a pen. I have been laughed at because I enjoy pens. I have always enjoyed them. But I always used the cheapest ones possible.  And even when I would go buy a multi-pack of colored pens, I would use the colors I didn't like first. So Always red, green or pink were used first before blues and ultimately purple.

Though the one thing that I have learned - and really brought the lesson home to my heart, is just how short and precious life truly is.  Why was I waiting so long to enjoy the pretty things?  Why can I not be allowed to have something that gives me a bit of happiness? Even if its in something as simplistic as a PEN.

The pen has been my best friend for years - I write when I'm happy. I write when I'm sad, and I'll even write when I'm angry - (I"m careful what pen I pick for those sessions - I mean I can get a bit harsh with my words and hand gestures, so I want to be careful and use a pen that can handle it)  I have pens when I feel like writing small, pens when i want to be large and brilliant. When I want to write taking my time with the curves of my letters - so when I just want to fling the letters on the page, so get the thoughts figured out. Those thoughts that have been all jumbled up in my brain and some how through my arm and into my hand clarity can be transformed. Then sometimes - not so much - but I don't know until I try.

Learning to enjoy the simple things, encouraged to use the PRETTY things - has made a tremendous difference in me.

Through out this journey - I have had some pretty amazing folks that have crossed my path.  Simply because of a pen.  Trying to explain this to someone who doesn't get it is impossible. To those of you that understand and get it - I feel like I need not say much more.


So with a concluding thought - i give you this.  Thank you - thank you to those who share the love in this community.  Continue to spread that love. Even though the medium happens to be a pen - paper and inky goodness.

Continue to write  - use the pretty things. Enjoy the process.  Maybe this was the writing itch I have always felt the drive for. I thought it would be to maybe write something someone else would read. But maybe its just meant to be my own passion I enjoy. My journal of the self.

Though here, I share with you just some tidbits when the must strikes me.  Today it smacked me pretty hard, and gave me just enough confidence in myself to put the thoughts into words and on screen just for you to read.

 Thank you for reading this. Thank you for being a friend, a part of this community.  Thank you for making me feel welcome.

The End.......

Fall, time for letting go

I'm feeling some what reflective at the moment, so I am sitting down at the computer to write something out that has come to mind.

I saw on my facebook page today an image of falling leaves.  

Autumn shows us how beautiful it is to let things go.

So it got me thinking about some of the things I have let go over the last couple of years.  I have let go of things, lots of things, that just cluttered my space. I didn't open up room for more things, but just new homes for what I already had. 

I reluctantly had to let go of loved ones and family. Saying good bye to them as they are no longer physically with us. Although they are missed, the memories of them come to mind every now and then. They are times when they bring me smiles, sometimes a tear. But It reminds my heart of the love that was there.

I have let go of people in my life. People that did not see me for just who I am. They wanted me to be who they thought I should be. And well, frankly that isn't being honest. I do not like folks that spend their lives living in clouds of lies.  The clarity of letting go, brought forth such peace. So that was a beautiful thing.

We need to let go sometimes so that it makes a path for something new. Sometimes, that growth can take a really long time to manifest itself. To really take hold, root and thrive.  While there are times what comes up is just something for "erosion" control until the truth strength comes forth. 

I love this time of year. Spring does bring forth green, a renewal of life. There also has to be dormant period for that to happen.  Bring on the fall, with the crisp clean air. The crunch of leaves under foot, and warm soft fuzzy sweaters.   This is a time I find my happiness. A time I enjoy.  Hope you can find something beautiful  in your letting go as well.

Mishelle

Busywork - instead of writing

There is busy work that I occupy my time in order to put off any sort of writing. I may not be an author of anything that someone else would actually read.

Even here - I haven't bothered with a blog entry in ages. Looks like the last time I wrote was just after I lost my mom.  Now my father has cancer, and I am not ready to loose him.

So then, what the heck is stopping me. WHY on earth have I had this itch to write? But then I am just panicked with fear that I am not worthy to write.

There are millions of blogs out there. Something more informative and entertaining, what would mine have to offer anyone?

I love journaling, could I make this blog about that?

I have also gotten into fountain pens. I don't have super fancy ones, but I do have some that I really love. And for someone who has never used a fountain pen, they probably would look at me like I'm a little off my rocker.  (It's not the most comfortable rocker, so I don't use it much, lol.)

I keep thinking that if I create something, I might have something to offer. How can I offer anything, if I don't step it up and just do it.

I pep talk myself, quite a few times. I mean, if you have read this blog you know how much I have really struggled with this.

I have one book I have written, and have given it to a couple of friends to read. But their lives are so busy that I don't think that they have ever had the time to take a look.

So I put my bits and pieces of myself here, so that folks can see my style of writing. It's simplistic, hopefully makes sense.  But I even discount my blog saying that I am so boring that its only good for putting folks to sleep - an insomnia cure.

What shall I do next?    Maybe I will work on just putting more up there.

So will see.  I have thought about this before - and the idea just usually stops right there.

Processing the Grief

Everyone deals with death on their own terms. Mine seems to not typically follow the path that many go through.  When someone dies, that is that. They moved on and as a believer I believe they moved on to something better than what was here. I do not see significance in having wailers spending an hour or two to share in the tears and snot. 

Allow me to grieve after they are gone. We can share memories at another time when the tender hearts are not as raw and full of emotions. So basically I don't want to attend a funeral or a memorial service for someone. Using the argument that this is for those who are left behind, doesn't quite fit for me as well.  I will go out of family obligation, and also to show social support for those who are behind.  But I certainly don't like it. I feel like I am left waiting until that day finally arrives, with the anxiety and anticipation. Only after holding on to these emotions am I able to finally just let them go. I can move on in my grieving process - and progress onto the next stage. But the ceremony does not bring a step for me. The ritual of it brings even more grief. 

No, I realize many folks do not think the same way that I do.  That having a service allows the rest of the community to share their sadness and say good bye to someone that was a part of their lives.  Although seeing both sides of the situation does not hinder my stance. Realizing that some folks find it theraputic, and helpful, this is not what I am trying to belittle or rebuke. All I am saying that this is a problem that I have. 

Now I am in this middle of this process, and I feel that I am not able to go through and deal with what ever it is I feel that I need to deal with. Right now being in the middle of someone passing and their service the emotions that I have conflict. There are some reasons that I have this, for which this isn't the time or place for such words. While I await the events that are to unfold, I feel stagnant  - stuck in this limbo. Not really sure just how to deal with it all. 

So here I am writing - some how to figure out my process. Somewhere I can say just what I'm thinking and not be viewed as wrong some how.  

Words that have always stuck to me - "Well, what if others thought the way you do?" 

Folks - do not think like me. Think for yourself. That is what we are put here to do. To use our minds and think.

If you need the fellowship of others to share in the sadness during your grief, then go for that. However if you need to be on your own, and you can maneuver as way to do so, then by all means to do.  Sometimes we have to do things we don't like. This is certainly an aspect of life none of us like.

Story to tell

"Don't forget - no one else sees the world the way you do, so no one else can tell the stories you can tell." Charles de Lint

I was looking up some writing quotes and this one came up. Then it really got me thinking. Writing has always been something I have desired. More than anything I have ever wanted in my life. I don't know if I ever wanted something more. But here is my thing - I don't have a story. I don't live in a land of make-believe. Putting a world on the page has not been a skill set I have ever really managed. Then I get that meanie in my head that constantly tells me, "What's the point?" You are wasting y our time. No one gives a crap what you have to say. That meanie isn't very nice.

Instead of shutting her out, I listen and give in. Once in awhile I can fly under the radar and I manage to spew something that resembles a blog post. But I have do to it fast. Before that editor - self doubt - gets in my way and nothing is said. 

So if you ever come across this blog, you will find errors. English was not my major in college - so grammar and spelling will be lacking. Although I do try to be coherent, that could be questionable at times as well. 

My thoughts are not overly processed. I have them when they come, and I have to release the flood gates and allow them to flow. Or they will never happen. I blog how I journal. Granted I journal far more often than I blog. The evidence is seen here by how often I post.

So - then - what is my story - that only I can tell? I think this is either buried so deep I may never find it, or just maybe I am a fool and one does not exist for me. if that is the case, then why do I have this overwhelming passion to write? 

What do I have to say that hasn't been already said?

I am a voice among millions. There are better writers out there, and far more blogs with better content than I can produce. This is blog has been my avenue to vehicle myself out there. But I don't know how well that is going. This blog has always been one scary ride for me.

I am already sensing this is yet another post of whining.

What is blocking me from doing this? Do I just need to give this up? Hang my hair - allow it to gather dust. Frankly - that seems to be the case at this point. I suppose I sought out some sort of confirmation or recognition that this is a worth while pursuit. But that's not a valid enough reason. I should just do this for me. My own feelings of accomplishment should be fulfilling enough. I guess I lack that as well.

So, where is my story? Should I continue to seek it out, or finally get off the pot - and flush.

To the page

One thing I like about journaling is the fact I can reflect on the moments in life I have made it through. Cherish the happy memories. And even figure things out. Today is a day that just deserves to be put to the page. There is something about pen to page that just works for me.