Namaste in Notes

Recently, my Sweet-Smelling Girlfriend challenged me. Not to a duel or anything, but to a challenge not to write notes for a week.

My challenge note to not write notes.

If you know me, you know I write notes. I have notes all over my house. Mostly of things I need to do. Occasionally, there are duplicate to-do things. All in my chicken scratch. On little pieces of paper. I’m infamous for cutting up papers I had printed -- ones that have blank areas on them that would have just ended up in the recycling bin anyway. And, they’ve been neatly cut up on a paper cutter, just so you know. Not messily with scissors or anything.

My eldest's interpretation of what would happen to me if I didn't write notes.

A dear friend of mine gave me the trail name, “Pockets.” Not because I wear cargo pants (though I do like them but don’t currently own any) but because I always have a piece of paper in the rear left pocket of my jeans. On this piece of folded card-stock I have my weekly to-do list on it. Then, I always add to it. Things that I find interesting like movies, songs, websites or quotes people may have suggested. Or, things that I need to buy. Like groceries for meal ideas. Which I may have also added if I had heard someone talking about a great recipe. All in my microscopic print.

Beside my bed, on my nightstand, are 3x5 cards. More places to write down notes, thoughts or dreams upon awakening.

My house is fairly small. Think efficient, close-to-the-beach home. And even with its campy size, I have notes and paper for notes in almost every corner of my home. Everywhere but in my girls’ room. There is always a place for me to write notes and lists or whatever my brain is thinking. (And I always write using my favorite pens…retractable blue Uniball Signo 207 pens).

A note with a mantra from my Pocket-nicknaming friend's recent yoga class and my note to vacuum (maybe I didn't have to write that down...just looking at the floor should be enough of a reminder...but I write stuff down.)

When my Sweet-Smelling Girlfriend challenged me to not write notes for 1 week, she told me to “Ride the wave of life” and see what happens. She questioned my ability to remember things on my own without writing anything down. She wondered if some type of amnesia would kick in. I have to say that I felt naked for the first few days without that weekly pocket note. I’d reach for it to write something down and remember that I didn’t have it. I wonder how many things that I would have liked to have remembered that week slipped my mind? I couldn’t tell you. It wasn’t written down. I was happy that I didn’t have a lot going on that week to actually keep track of.

This is what I wrote on a 3x5 by my bed when my Sweet-Smelling Girlfriend challenged me. We decided it would make for an interesting blog subject.

Do I need to write notes because I’m blonde? Or, is there the fear of forgetting to do something? I think it’s a combination of those things. Maybe not so much the blonde thing because my brain is always in multi-tasking mode (do blondes really multi-task?). I’m constantly creating. Writing in my head so I don’t feel like I have a lot of extra room to remember the have-to’s. The have-to’s aren’t as fun to have swirling around in this head of mine. My head that lives in my land of fluffy bunnies and happy rainbows.

Because my pocket note went through the laundry (one of the hazards of pocket notes), I was forced to write down this idea at work for the coolest snowflake on some horrid yellow paper that would easily dissolve in humid air.

So, I survived that week’s challenge. But, I’ve written notes since then. There’s a comfort for me in writing notes. Then there’s the whole sense of accomplishment when you can check things off that have been done. I like that feeling. The more I have going on in my life, the more I write down. As Christmas approached this year, I found myself writing more lists and notes than usual. But, Christmas has a way of overwhelming even the most organized. I may try to limit my note-writing from time to time. Or, at least be sure to consolidate the lists in my house so they don’t overwhelm my Sweet-Smelling Girlfriend. But for now, for me, they work. And they are part of my wave of life. I am one with my notes. Ooh, let me write that down…

How my Sweet-Smelling Girlfriend interprets my world without notes...

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