This morning I stayed home to participate in The Hatch, a monthly gathering of over 200 people who are connected through their interest in journalling. Many people, like the founder, Suleika Jaouad struggle with chronic illness; others have joined (as I did) shortly after its start during the Covid shutdown.
Today I chose to write about something in my life that has sat unused for too long. The prompt was to write about how I could repurpose it — where it has been, what it means to me and what it could become.
Many objects in my home sit unused for far too long, but today I am thinking about a large, blank sketchpad and a case of drawing pencils. Each pencil is a shade of black or grey, of varying thickness and darkness. The Sketchpad and pencils have sat in my den of every house I’ve owned over the past 20 years.
Around twenty years ago my youngest child bought them for me as either a birthday or Christmas present. She listens when people speak and had heard me talk about winning an art contest as a child and how I once enjoyed drawing and painting. She was hoping this gift would inspire me to work less and spend more time enjoying something create–something that isn’t music, since music is also my work.
The sketchpad and pencils sat unused for many years until when in 2022 when I started therapy in an attempt to pick up the broken pieces that was my life. My counsellor asked me to find a large piece of blank paper for our first session. I was asked to draw and label a diagram in order to explore my core values.
I return to this diagram often to review some of the truths that I discovered, and frequently rediscover.
return — review — record — rediscover
The sketchpad itself reminds me of my daughter’s love for her mother; of her abundant compassion, empathy and understanding; her patience and occasional lack of patience as she reminds me that there is more to life than working and people-pleasing.
The sketchpad and pencils could become a way for me to unwind. They could become a way to record what is on my mind, or things that I observe. They could become a way of journalling with no words, or few words. The sketchpad could become less blank. It could become a collection of sketches or artwork that I might find meaningful; a diary of my thoughts.
Whatever it becomes, it will no longer be a lonely collection of blank pages.
Reflections 
Without exaggeration, I probably have 30 little notebooks sitting around my office, awaiting my inspirations, and at least 3 sketchbooks. I have four different sets of colored pencils, 7 different kinds of paints, and a three-drawer artists’ box filled with writing and drawing implements.
I write on a computer and I almost never draw anything. And I feel bad about that. I feel like they now represent the things I wanted to do with my life that I haven’t done. I can’t throw them away.
Sometimes perhaps we just need a kick in the pants to remind us of who we once thought we would become. And sometimes, maybe, we just need to remember that all the art supplies in the world won’t replace the talents you admire in others but have never had yourself.
You are better at finding a positive spin on that than I am. It sounds like a backhanded compliment, but I mean it sincerely, without irony. So much of life is how you choose to look at it.
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And just like all the fancy heirlooms in my china cabinet, I am saving each special notebook (I also have several sitting unused in a drawer) for a special occasion.
It’s never too late to start using those special items! And never too late to begin doing those things that you once dreamed of.
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Yippee! Hip, Hip, Hooray!!
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