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wlotusMore blog cleaning and another old post dusted off...
Date: Monday 14 April 2003, 9:19:00 AM
Intuition is the teaching from within; pay attention to what you feel! [Iyanla Vanzant]
For years I was embarrassed by a fascination I have. No one else I knew had the same fascination, so out of fear of being teased, I kept it to myself. In the past couple of years I have made the acquaintance of some people (via the internet) who have the same fascination. Though I am still selective about who I honor by sharing my fascination with them, I am no longer embarrassed by it. In fact, I relish it and no longer try to suppress it.
I like to browse in stationary and office supply stores.
After church yesterday I went to Staples to buy envelopes and stamps for the remaining Easter cards I will make this week. I found the envelopes right away, then did some browsing. (Just a little, because I was tired, which makes me much less likely to think before whipping out my credit card.) I came away with something I have lusted after for over a year: a box of 12 Sanford Uni-ball Micro pens, in red. Then, before I could get lost in the stacks of legal pads of various colors which were calling my name, I hightailed it to the cashier and paid for my purchases.
Ever since I was a young child I have loved paper, pencils, and pens. My mother used to have a nightstand drawer full of Eberhard Faber col-erase pencils, mostly in red. I'd sit and rummage through the drawer for long stretches, looking for as many non-red pencils as I could find. (You know, I never asked her where all of those pencils came from or why she had them. If I remember, I will ask when I visit her this weekend.) Blue was the crown of my search; those seemed to be rare gems. I don't remember using the pencils much, except for the red ones to highlight verses in my Bible once I got old enough to start really comprehending what I read therein. But I remember being delighted just to touch them, roll them across my fingertips, and inhale their woody scent.
Paper is something else I have always loved. Blank paper. Colored paper. Notepads. Legal pads. Primarily lined, though unlined was cool, if it was decorative. I remember being thrilled when I was allowed to order notepads which had my name across the top of each page. I wanted to scribble something on every page, even if it was just a word, even just one letter. I used to make miniature, lined notepads by cutting up notebook paper and stapling the scraps together with construction paper covers. From the age of six or seven, I have never felt properly equipped to be out of the house without blank paper and a pen in my bag. I liked to sketch simple things, but I mostly liked writing, even if what I wrote made absolutely no sense. Just the action of writing has always soothed me.
Had I been raised in an environment where personal expression was encouraged and nurtured, I might have been enrolled in writing or drawing classes at an early age. But I was not, and my early ventures into creative writing were met with much disdain in my peer group. So as I grew older and began to succumb to the pressure within my family to justify every whim with either a spiritual or practical application, I chalked up my love for pens, pencils, and paper to my "weirdness". I would silently ridicule myself for feeling drawn to the stationary section of any and every drug store, supermarket, and book store. I would never enter an office supply store, unless there was something practical which I needed. And I never, ever bought writing supplies just because I wanted them...except during moments of weakness, after which I would lecture myself on "wasting money".
As I have learned to look lovingly at every aspect of who I am over the past couple of years, I have stopped trying to break myself of this fascination. First I would just laugh at my fascination, though in a loving way, not in a cruel way. Then I began allowing myself to browse whenever I had the time to do so. I have just started allowing myself to buy writing supplies "just because", hence yesterday's pen purchase; I certainly didn't need any red pens. I just wanted a box of brand new ones, specifically that brand, and I have wanted them for years. And contrary to what the anal-retentive, ultra-critical parent in my head says, spending $7.00 on something I want but do not need is not wasteful, especially at my hard-earned income. It feels good, and--this is for the so-heavenly-minded-he's-no-earthly-good preacher in my head--feelings are sacred and deserve to be treated with respect. Feelings will teach us important things about ourselves, if we pay attention to them.
I've always been envious of people who are given grand prophecies of what God intends for them to do with their lives. A few years ago someone prophecied over me. The things God said through him about my calling in life were vague but exactly what I needed to hear at that moment. Later I realized that I could figure out the details by paying attention to what I was drawn to, to what captured my attention, to the things I take to like a duck takes to water. There was no need for God to speak through another person to tell me what my calling(s) is(are). All I needed to do was pay attention to myself. I began doing that, and now my fascination with writing supplies makes perfect sense.
I am a writer.
Update, 25 January 2008: I am also a photographer. And perhaps someday I will once again dare to call myself a singer.
Date: Monday 14 April 2003, 9:19:00 AM
Intuition is the teaching from within; pay attention to what you feel! [Iyanla Vanzant]
For years I was embarrassed by a fascination I have. No one else I knew had the same fascination, so out of fear of being teased, I kept it to myself. In the past couple of years I have made the acquaintance of some people (via the internet) who have the same fascination. Though I am still selective about who I honor by sharing my fascination with them, I am no longer embarrassed by it. In fact, I relish it and no longer try to suppress it.
I like to browse in stationary and office supply stores.
After church yesterday I went to Staples to buy envelopes and stamps for the remaining Easter cards I will make this week. I found the envelopes right away, then did some browsing. (Just a little, because I was tired, which makes me much less likely to think before whipping out my credit card.) I came away with something I have lusted after for over a year: a box of 12 Sanford Uni-ball Micro pens, in red. Then, before I could get lost in the stacks of legal pads of various colors which were calling my name, I hightailed it to the cashier and paid for my purchases.
Ever since I was a young child I have loved paper, pencils, and pens. My mother used to have a nightstand drawer full of Eberhard Faber col-erase pencils, mostly in red. I'd sit and rummage through the drawer for long stretches, looking for as many non-red pencils as I could find. (You know, I never asked her where all of those pencils came from or why she had them. If I remember, I will ask when I visit her this weekend.) Blue was the crown of my search; those seemed to be rare gems. I don't remember using the pencils much, except for the red ones to highlight verses in my Bible once I got old enough to start really comprehending what I read therein. But I remember being delighted just to touch them, roll them across my fingertips, and inhale their woody scent.
Paper is something else I have always loved. Blank paper. Colored paper. Notepads. Legal pads. Primarily lined, though unlined was cool, if it was decorative. I remember being thrilled when I was allowed to order notepads which had my name across the top of each page. I wanted to scribble something on every page, even if it was just a word, even just one letter. I used to make miniature, lined notepads by cutting up notebook paper and stapling the scraps together with construction paper covers. From the age of six or seven, I have never felt properly equipped to be out of the house without blank paper and a pen in my bag. I liked to sketch simple things, but I mostly liked writing, even if what I wrote made absolutely no sense. Just the action of writing has always soothed me.
Had I been raised in an environment where personal expression was encouraged and nurtured, I might have been enrolled in writing or drawing classes at an early age. But I was not, and my early ventures into creative writing were met with much disdain in my peer group. So as I grew older and began to succumb to the pressure within my family to justify every whim with either a spiritual or practical application, I chalked up my love for pens, pencils, and paper to my "weirdness". I would silently ridicule myself for feeling drawn to the stationary section of any and every drug store, supermarket, and book store. I would never enter an office supply store, unless there was something practical which I needed. And I never, ever bought writing supplies just because I wanted them...except during moments of weakness, after which I would lecture myself on "wasting money".
As I have learned to look lovingly at every aspect of who I am over the past couple of years, I have stopped trying to break myself of this fascination. First I would just laugh at my fascination, though in a loving way, not in a cruel way. Then I began allowing myself to browse whenever I had the time to do so. I have just started allowing myself to buy writing supplies "just because", hence yesterday's pen purchase; I certainly didn't need any red pens. I just wanted a box of brand new ones, specifically that brand, and I have wanted them for years. And contrary to what the anal-retentive, ultra-critical parent in my head says, spending $7.00 on something I want but do not need is not wasteful, especially at my hard-earned income. It feels good, and--this is for the so-heavenly-minded-he's-no-earthly-good preacher in my head--feelings are sacred and deserve to be treated with respect. Feelings will teach us important things about ourselves, if we pay attention to them.
I've always been envious of people who are given grand prophecies of what God intends for them to do with their lives. A few years ago someone prophecied over me. The things God said through him about my calling in life were vague but exactly what I needed to hear at that moment. Later I realized that I could figure out the details by paying attention to what I was drawn to, to what captured my attention, to the things I take to like a duck takes to water. There was no need for God to speak through another person to tell me what my calling(s) is(are). All I needed to do was pay attention to myself. I began doing that, and now my fascination with writing supplies makes perfect sense.
I am a writer.
Update, 25 January 2008: I am also a photographer. And perhaps someday I will once again dare to call myself a singer.
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no subject
Date: 2008-01-26 02:32 am (UTC)Very beautiful.......
no subject
Date: 2008-01-26 02:54 am (UTC)My parents have a video of me at about age 7 asking a Santa Claus for paper. He asked me what I meant and sort of suppressed a chuckle when I said just plain typing paper. It was my favourite thing then, and still is!
no subject
Date: 2008-01-26 02:56 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-26 03:02 am (UTC)Yes!!!
Date: 2008-01-26 04:19 am (UTC)Then WE could have indulged in going to Office Max and moon over the pens and paper section...
And there is this ADORABLE lil' paper store in Uptown that I've always wanted to go into but knew better...
*sigh*
I'm SO glad you shared this.
And yes. You ARE a writer, a photographer...and a singer. :)
And my Sistah. Thank the Lord!!!
XOXOXO
K.
Re: Yes!!!
Date: 2008-01-26 04:24 am (UTC)Re: Yes!!!
Date: 2008-01-26 10:36 pm (UTC)Re: Yes!!!
Date: 2008-01-26 11:17 pm (UTC)Re: Yes!!!
Date: 2008-01-27 01:23 am (UTC)Of COURSE you can...the more the merrier!
I know you do know...the one right on the corner of Hennepin and 31st in Uptown.
I would love to add you...but I have to warn you...I'm not the most religious of people and I'm really blunt and um...yeah.
But let me know if that's OK. Or better yet, ask Wlotus...she knows me really well. :)
K.
Re: Yes!!!
Date: 2008-01-27 01:47 am (UTC)Re: Yes!!!
Date: 2008-01-27 01:55 am (UTC)OOOOoooOOO!!! I LOVE being put in my place, nicely. Hee hee... :)
That's fricking Awesome. I, myself am an "Eclectic Catholic" meaning I was raised Catholic (still love parts of the Church) but am also Pagan and have leanings towards American Indian teachings. :)
You sound awesome. I'd be honoured to add you and you can read about my crazy single mom life. And not so crazy single mom life. :)
K.
Re: Yes!!!
Date: 2008-01-27 03:54 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-26 05:32 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-26 08:49 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-30 02:22 am (UTC)I miss pen shopping though. I did find post-it notes that are recycled and that made me happy.