Admit it. You get them too. It's that nervousness you feel when you open a new, unmarred journal. It engulfs you. Makes your heartbeat quicken. It's that hesitation to take pen/pencil/marker/paint to it the first time.
There is something so beautiful about a blank book. A promise just waiting to be fulfilled. Dreams that are yet to be dreamed. Creations lurking within each page.
I have been toting a blank journal in my purse for a couple of weeks now. Almost had a coronary when my oldest asked if she could rip a page out of it. GASP!!! For a shopping list! Oh the horror that was.
This is my antagonizer.
Why have I been carrying this wonderful blank book around? Why have I been torturing myself by occasionally flipping through the pristine, promise laden pages?
I don't know.
What is holding me back from USING this wonderful little journal that spoke to me enough to make me possess it?
I don't know.
Do you?
1 comment:
It's the same reason we don't use our "good" paper unless we deem a project worthy, or our "good" china in the corner cabinet only comes out for special occasions. You aren't the only one who fights that feeling of not wanting to ruin, spoil, mess up, etc. the pristine pages - but you won't. What's the worst thing that can happen? You may love what you put into it or hate it. THen you can either tear it out or simply turn the page!
Break free from it, Jana, start using that bad boy!
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