You are connected through past, present, and future through the art of writing by hand. The Stealthy Scribbler Society helps people understand just how important that is and helps people to do it more and through the art of and habit of doing it more, you’re actually going to find ways to get unstuck in your situations, resolve things from your past potentially, and find new directions for your future.

It makes me smile. It makes me smile. It makes me very happy to do that. You can learn more about that at The Stealthy Scribbler website at https://www.Stealthyscribbler.com. https://www.inkedsheets.com.

It was finally time to sleep, and sleep lately hasn't come easy.

My sheets are old, thin, and comfortable. Perfect for the hot, stuffy night. With my eyes closed and my body relaxed, I started drifting off into blessed rest.

The phone began to ring. Only specific contacts can get through my Do-Not-Disturb phone settings. It was my son calling after his shift ended.

The conversation came fast and in broken pieces.

"It jumped on me. I threw everything off and -- and I began stomping on it!"

Fast breathing.

"It was red and orange. I -- I ---"

I was already sitting up in bed. "What jumped on you?"

"A spider!" My eyes looked to the side during the pause. 👀 "Mom, it was as big as my tire!" My eyes widened. Everything is bigger in Texas!

"Which tire?"

"The tire on my bike."

"Which bike?"

"The one I'm riding."

"Which one are you riding?"

"The one I just got." The medium one. A red and orange spider with legs spanning 20 inches in diameter? 

"Was it hairy?"

"Um, yes, a little, but not much."

My bedroom light was on, and I was now redressing.

"Where is it now?" I asked.

The pause was too long.

"I don't know."

"What do you mean you don't know?!"

"It was on my leg. It JUMPED ON MY LEG! I stomped on my pants."

"Did you kill it?"

Another pause.

"I don't know. I -- I --- I think it's in my pants still."

The pain in my head sat in the center of my skull like an anvil. "Do you want me to come over and have me help you look for it?"

The pieces weren't adding up. Without answers, I wasn't getting any sleep. Instantly, I regretted not purchasing that sweet, high-powered crossbow my friend and I found in Rhode Island a couple of years back.

When he confirmed my need to come over, I was slipping on my flip-flops. I drizzled my exposed hands, wrists, feet, and part of my face in Ranger-Ready bug spray (not an affiliate) and marched out of my apartment wide awake.

It may have been the quiet of the night or the heavy air, but my quick footsteps seemed louder than usual. It's about a five-minute walk or so between our apartments.

When I arrived, he opened the door.

The wall of heat and humidity was oppressive, a stark contrast to the sanctuary of my place.

In the living room, black pants lay crumpled on the floor like a discarded death shroud. My son stood tense and vigilant, now in shorts. He placed the steak knife he'd been clutching down on the counter. The living room and kitchen resembled that of a young working bachelor with bits and bobs strewn about, mangled cords of electronics in a corner, unwashed dishes, and crumbs.

I lowered my voice, "Are you OK?" His tension was thick, and while waiting for the answer, I scanned the room, searching for red and orange legs, the air silent and heavy.

I felt like I just stumbled onto a crime scene from the 80s.

I asked him to walk me through what happened. We thought he'd initially ridden under a tree with a hanging web and unknowingly picked up the eight-legged hitchhiker. He confirmed that tonight, for whatever reason, he'd taken a different route home.

When he arrived, he flipped on the kitchen light, placed his bike in the walkway, and began venturing across the semi-lit living room to the familiar path to the lamp on the other side.

That's when he felt the web.

While completing his step, he looked down just in time to see the giant red and orange spider leap onto his black jeans. "I threw my drink!" He pointed to the fresh cola stain on the opposite wall and floor and kept talking with his hands as he explained. "I threw off my backpack, undid this (his belt), took off my pants as fast as I could, and started stomping on them."

We both looked at the crumpled fabric like we were waiting for Dracula to rise.

Nothing moved.

I tried to be positive. "Hopefully, it's dead. You know. You never know if it was that big."

His eyes flared. Quickly going over to the flattened fabric folds, he started stomping on them again. "Yeah, that f----r, better be dead!"

He was upset, shaken, and angry.

Before the next part, I needed to know one last thing. "Show me where the legs stretched compared to your tire."

He pointed to the tire and touched one side of the tire wall to the other side, about four or five inches wide. My shoulders relaxed. "OK. OK. I thought you said, when it's as big as your tire, I was literally imagining, something as big as your tire, (motioning to the entire tire circumference). You meant the width of the tire."

"Yeah, yeah."

That's much better news. He pointed to his left calf. "It was clinging to me right here."

We both stared at the crumpled pants. Neither one of us wanted to check.

I stooped down and touched the edge of a pant leg, the room silent. The pants were wet. "Are these wet from the restaurant, sweat, or --."

"Bug spray." I rolled my eyes. Great. The poisonous red and black can of RAID sat dutifully nearby.

I pulled out the one pant leg we knew it wasn't in first. Inspecting it showed nothing. The other pant leg was folded in on itself. Checking it required careful unfolding.

I did this slowly, dropping the fabric each time I got close and only holding it with my finger and thumb. I pulled it out slowly, without stopping to unravel each wrinkle.

There was nothing there.

We looked at each other and started looking around.

"You know, you were freaking out, which is fine, but it probably jumped off of you as soon you started thrashing around. They're fast like that."

"But where?"

We looked at the footrest the web was attached to. My son is home less often between work and other things. He also only moves those things around in the living room a little. It's easy to imagine that with enough time, the spider felt like making itself a home.

I flipped on the light on my phone and began looking around his items like Sherlock Holmes with a magnifying glass. I found abundant dust bunnies, some abandoned webs near the TV, a few wrappers, an old kernel of dog food, and the remnants of various fallen insects forming a macabre tableau of death.

The spider has been at it for some time, and it has been some time since a decent cleaning.

We flipped over the footrest. Inspecting it, we found nothing, not even a web. It must have been new.

The next logical place the spider would have run is directly under the oversized, plush chair that sits about four inches off the floor.

Fatigue and exhaustion pressed each of us. My head was throbbing, but we needed to get to the bottom of this.

What we found next would keep us busy for the next 30 minutes.

Flipping the chair over, we discovered multiple webs in various places and scattered about in the folds of the fabric, around 20 different egg sacks.

We went to work removing them only to realize there were gaping holes from the bottom of the recliner to the insides where the arms of the chair were hollow.

We tore away the bottom protective covering to find more webs and a few more egg sacks. We removed those as well.

An emotional, sleep-deprived decision was to call the chair a total loss and burn it as a testament to man's most outstanding achievements.

Several factors brought us back to our senses.

• You can't burn things in the courtyard.

• The fire danger would be deadly.

• My dad was a firefighter and an EMT. His face and voice were clear in my mind: "No."

• We'd get into trouble with the law.

We never found the orange-and-red-offending-freeloading squatter in our search. We each tried to ignore the chills crawling up our spines.

A Google search of red-and-orange spiders brought more terror to mind with each passing image the results brought back to us. Finally, one looked familiar. "It was like this one," he said.

A common house spider. That was its name: Common House Spider. NOT-poisonous.

Relief washed over both of us, but we were not comforted. This spider likes to live near humans. 😩 I did not keep reading to find out why but learned their bright colors ward off other predators.

When it was over, I did take the opportunity to explain that his place needs a "for real" deep cleaning, that he cannot put it off any longer, and why. With the Texas heat and humidity, it would only be a matter of time before more bugs decide to call his place home. I also told him we would get rid of this chair and return to the second-hand store for a different one.

All my other plans for the next day were now put off.

It was after 11 p.m. now. "I'll be over at nine in the morning. NINE." He nodded. "Have your coffee and breakfast before I get here. Be ready to start cleaning at nine."

We parted ways. My head was splitting, pounding.

Arriving home, I found a familiar face. A sign from God?

My gecko friend had returned, feasting on the bugs outside my porch light. He was fatter and more prominent than I'd seen six weeks ago. I'd wondered what had happened to him. He refused to allow me to take his picture, fleeing. It was good to see him, though.

The following day, I arrived promptly at 9 a.m. with a fancy bottle of Lysol clinging-toilet-bowl gel in one hand and an entire bottle of water in the other.

He wore the same t-shirt the night before and had swollen eyes. "I've been cleaning for three hours already. This is what I've done so far."

Seventy percent of the job was done.

He hadn't really slept. He was too worried the spider would return for some middle-of-the-night revenge and decided to start cleaning.

After the apartment was spotless, swept, and mopped, my son felt better about trying to keep the chair.

At the store, he found some chemical barrier protection-type stuff that is supposed to last 18 months. I used half the bottle on the underneath portions and insides of that chair, spraying in every nook, cranny, and flat place I could see or reach. He took the rest and sprayed the inner permitter of the house, around the appliances, etc.

As of this writing, the spider hasn't been found, and there's been no sign of him since.

Dear Scribbler

Q. I need help writing in a journal on paper, on my phone, or using software. Even though nobody sees it now, someone will see it later. I'll still be judged. That's not fair. How can I start?

A. This stems from interacting with at least one person who frequently interrupts or talks over you. Doesn't matter who, but they, or a combination of people, have been doing it long enough to impact your ability to express yourself.

This happens more and more online, too. We don't want to deal with "backlash" of trolls and things of this nature, so we stay quiet.

I've self-censored myself in my journal entries. It leaves my stomach rolling, my emotions angry, and, after a time, quite fed up with the current state of things.

So, you're right. This isn't fair.

Make journaling without fear great again.

Here are some things I recommend.

1. Separate a log book of events (or other things you write about) written in less emotional terms from the journal or notebook where you let loose.

2. Write in a separate notebook where you let loose, on the condition that you will be OK throwing away those pages or destroying the notebook shortly after it's written.

In most cases, you will NOT destroy the pages or the notebook. The goal is to be OK with it, though. Once you're fine writing in a notebook like this (again, keep the highlights or shortened, non-emotional versions of the events happening in a different book), you can let loose and get it all out.

And trust me, you want to get it all out.

Getting it all out feels better and helps you see more clearly.

You know you need this.

Here's what happens.

• The first book, the highlights or non-emotional version, is safe to be found in most cases, right? It would be fine if someone read it (in theory), as it's just a listing of what happened that day or a lighter version of how you feel. This way, you're still preserving what happened that day, something you can reflect on.

• The second book, the one with how you really feel, with all the raw verbiage, lets you accomplish your goal without judgment. As soon as you know you can destroy it if you have to at any time (because the first version is already persevered), you can let loose more freely.

I do this myself.

I don't throw the second notebook away. I hope to keep them to see how far I've come and look back at my thought processes, but I know I can sacrifice the second one at any time.

It feels safer this way.

One Line

One-liners are sentences meant to prompt your memories and stimulate your creativity. Use them, if you want, to see what your brain comes up with. Do you see an image in your mind, feel something, remember something?

Whatever it is, start writing it down. There's no right or wrong answer. 🥳

The dark blob in between the stove and fridge, thankfully, turned out to be a crushed leaf stuck to a piece of fabric.

Mission

Pick up an object nearby—any object. Describe its texture, weight, and the memories it evokes. Let your mind wander.

I see things online that I can respond to with wisdom, experience, or solutions.

But I don't.

I sit there and think about how to say what I want and then question whether I want to say it. A paragraph or two may have even formed. Just that quick and just that easy.

Then doubt and pressure rise. Almost immediately, predictably so.

• Will this help my engagement online?

• Will this cause me to lose followers?

• Could I lose a contract if I word this just the wrong way?

Then opposition comes.

• Why do I need to worry about any of that if it truly helps another?

• Do I sound angry?

• Maybe I should come at it from another way.

I still keep my finger poised on the screen, mainly to keep the feed in place while I think the feelings come.

• Anger. This is all so stupid. Why do I have to even care about this type of strategy? Why do I have to keep balancing those expectations? Why can't I say what I want because it needs to be said? Who cares if I sound like a mean person?

• Guilt. God doesn't want me to be mean to people. I'm not a man. I don't lead an army. I don't need to rally the troops.

• Comparison. But Joan of Arc did.

• Distraction. I need a pet. I need to touch grass. The monetary system is a scam. You don’t need to mess with trolls.

• Redirection. Focus. Do I answer this guy's post or not? It would be a good post.

• Dismissal. It's been four minutes, now five, that you've been contemplating all this. You don't have the time this morning to reply. Just bookmark it and respond later...

Later never comes, and I keep scrolling with the justification, "If it comes up again, I'll respond then."

So many missed opportunities, yet so much time that would have been taken away from the tasks at hand.
—-

The struggle I've just described is ongoing for many of us, all in different ways, with different issues.

Time is our most precious asset and also, depending on how we spend it, our greatest liability.

Writing some of it down by hand preserves the pattern and answers already within you.

You can't always see it that day, but once you've trained your eyes to see, you'll be able to see and feel the thread that connects it all when you flip back through the pages.

Writing by hand is one of the few ways to slow the world down, take it into your hands, create order out of chaos, and see through all the distractions that our world has become.

Dear Scribbler

Q. I'm not sure if it's me or the other person, but their behavior is getting on my nerves. For the sake of the relationship (both at home and with one person at work), I don't say anything. I don't know how much longer I can handle it. I'm afraid I'm gonna explode. If I do, it's gonna cause drama. If I hint too much, I'll be labeled as a nag or a troublemaker. What can I do?

A. This is a rough spot.

You're constantly pulled back and forth between trying to help and suffering consequences if you do.

If it were me, for a while, I wouldn't say anything to these people unless someone's life is or will be in danger if you don't.

Instead, write about all these things in your journal often. Just get all of it out. Each time you do this, the more often you do this, the faster and easier it becomes to release the negative feelings.

The faster you release the negative feelings, the quicker you regain your balance.

The faster you regain your balance, the quicker you can affirm what you know is right.

The faster you affirm what's right, the quicker you act.

That's partially what writing by hand is about.

You can keep these negative feelings from hijacking your day, derailing many of your plans, and lying to you about what type of future you can have.

This doesn't mean you'll always feel ecstatic or elated when this happens.

No. It means you're affirming that you get an active choice in how you choose to move forward for yourself.

I learned to ask myself this: Do I need to be in an environment where the mismatch is so heavy that I can no longer ignore the price I'm paying mentally and emotionally?

Another question: Does this situation deserve (notice I said "situation" and not "person") to be able to trigger, control, and consume me all day like this?

The answer to both questions is usually a resounding "No." More often than not, though, we talk ourselves out of this reality, which keeps us going back and forth about the whole thing.

It's a spiral. It's part of what I affectionately call the "Tornado of Crap."

You can momentarily, mentally, and emotionally step outside of the spiral at any time. Just figuratively, leave the spiral there, spinning, doing its thing. Look — you're standing over here where it's calm, peaceful, and you can breathe for five minutes, and over there is a spinning tornado like a toy spinning top. It's spinning, all by itself, without you in it. The tornado does not care that you've exited the building. It's just consuming everything that enters its sphere.

Pretty powerful, huh?

It's ok. Just stand out here with me and chat for another few moments. The tornado isn't going anywhere.

We both know that until you've been able to escape the situation impacting you, you'll have to go back into the tornado.

But here's what I want you to know:

By the very virtue of you going through the exercise I just walked you through, it proves to you that you have more control than you realize.

Please re-read the above again until you can imagine yourself doing this. Even if you can only do it for a few seconds, it's proof it can be done.

If you can do it for a few seconds, you can do it longer, and once you can do it longer, you'll eventually be able to do this ON DEMAND.

Once you can do this ON DEMAND, you are less likely to be manipulated, lied to, or taken advantage of.

Then, and only then, will the label of "troublemaker" be genuinely justified because cowards, simps, liars, and anyone intending to rule over you falsely will see that you see right through their BS.

To them, you become dangerous.

While you're sitting here outside the tornado, understand you can do this anytime, as long as you need to, sort out what is what, determine what's true, and how you want to respond to it.

While you may have to re-engage for the sake of a relationship or paycheck, you get to reserve how to respond and take action until you're clear on what you want and how you want to deal with the situation.

Writing by hand helps you tangibly sit outside the spiral often.

When you can't physically escape the chaos, writing by hand helps shelter you while you're in the middle of it.

Writing by hand is like a symbolic shield you can pull out of your pocket anytime.

It's only one type of concealed weapon you can carry to protect yourself and those you love.

It's inexpensive, and there's no license or permit required.

One Line

One-liners are sentences meant to prompt your memories and stimulate your creativity. Use them, if you want, to see what your brain comes up with. Do you see an image in your mind, feel something, remember something?

Whatever it is, start writing it down. There's no right or wrong answer. 🥳

I unfolded the letter, and a small key fell onto the floor.

Mission

Remember a time when you felt truly proud of an accomplishment. Describe what had happened, how it made you feel, and what it meant to you.

It's the third time it's happened.

The remote sits in the drawer untouched, and the receiver sits in its spot on the solar battery from the van.

Theory? The strand is about to go out.

While I was in the other room, it happened more than once.

My son started investigating.

He froze and looked at me when the realization sank in.

The lights aren't plugged into the wall, the power strip, or any other electronics at my workstation.

"This is creepy."

He took a deep breath in and leaned back slightly.

Flicker. Flicker.

We both held our breath for an extra second.

I stopped myself from humming the intro music to Stranger Things.

That's when he realized he was holding the TV remote in one hand.

When he was little, he figured out how to change the TV with the app on a device. Scared the crap out of me every time it changed the channel, and it would change back to something else all on its own. He couldn't keep the ruse up for long.

Thinking the same thing, we looked down. He pressed the button on the side, and the lights changed to orange, white, blue, and back to white.

It amazed him that the TV remote controlled the LED strand.

I explained the remote must be on the same wavelength as the LED remote.

Mystery solved.

He then hatched a plan to steal my remote and stand outside the living room window to randomly change the color of the lights on me, preferably during conference calls.

I glared.

He laughed.

A lot.

He went home earlier this evening, and I made sure the TV remote was safely where it belonged when he did.

Dear Scribbler

Q. How do I make my life more exciting? My life is the same every day, and I don’t have time for a lot of hobbies or travel. I don’t want to start an Only Fans.

A. I’m willing to bet your life is far more exciting than you think.

The short answer is that you choose to see things from a different angle and then doing so somewhat regularly.

That’s not to say you ever compromise your morals. No.

Instead of reacting to the fifteen things you know you have planned which haven’t happened yet, you’re choosing to take a few seconds to be fully present in something that’s happening right now.

I’m not sure I like that phrase, “fully present.”

Sure, I’ve used it, but just now, the way I wrote this to you, I don’t like how it comes across.

Let me see if I can explain.

Every day, you’re involved in something new, something different, even if you’re homebound and never talk to another soul.

If you think about it, every single day, there is something different that happens that is out of the normal, even if it’s just slightly.

These are things to pay attention to, stop, and give yourself to it fully for a few seconds longer than you otherwise would have.

• Is something out of place?

• Did you see something out of the corner of your eye?

• Was it a neighborhood sound?

• Did the floor vibrate beneath your feet?

• Was something missing?

• Did a new creature with more legs than you suddenly appear?

You think they’re boring, but I beg to differ.

Every time you choose to look at what is happening with a wildly different lense, you enter the realm of active creation.

This is not foo-foo. This is part of our innate nature, but many of us have forgotten how to use it in the modern age.

When you question what’s happening with a wildly differing viewpoint, you’re curious. You’re caught up. You might be a little scared. You might feel like a kid again.

Sometimes it’s OK to let positive/fun ideas come that maybe you’re used to dismissing. If you’re with someone else, especially if they are younger than you, might join in. Now you’re having an exchange about an imaginative scenario, which probably does have a rational explanation, but instead of just having a random “boring” moment, I challenge you to see that you’re literally creating a memory.

• How do you want that memory to happen?

• What good can you glean from it?

• Can it teach anything to someone else?

Maybe. Probably. Usually.

Taking it a step further, you start to write these “boring moments” down.

If we’re lucky, we’ll get to read some of these things one day, in your own words, in your own handwriting. We’ll get to get a small glimpse into the love you have for others, the memories you created with people, and be grateful for the bit of you that shapes and impacts us all. 

One Line

One-liners are sentences meant to prompt your memories and stimulate your creativity. Use them to see what your brain comes up with. Do you see an image in your mind, feel something, remember something?

Whatever it is, start writing it down. There's no right or wrong answer. 🥳

He came out from the trees, and I held my breath.

Mission

Imagine your ideal living situation. Feel into it and try to imagine what that looks and feels like. Write down the emotions you feel as you walk through your imaginary home.

Bonus: Ask yourself what you can do today to recreate those same emotions in your life right now.

Like any other tool, it can be used for good or evil.

The Stealthy Scribbler Society upholds using technology when it's beneficial. This includes the use of AI. You'll notice many, if not all, of the images used in The Stealthy Scribbler (this publication) are generated by AI.

But happens when it's used for nefarious purposes?

The horror stories could become real one day if they aren't already.

Artificial intelligence is getting so good, it's creating videos from still images created by itself or other AIs, voice matching, and nearly flawlessly impersonating voices and superimposing natural-looking facial expressions over photos and videos of real people.

What happens when it gets so good that it becomes nearly impossible to distinguish authentic picture, video, and audio recordings of individuals from AI-generated ones?

Could these deep-fake picture, video, and audio recordings be used against someone in a court of law?

I can't help but think, somewhere in the back of my mind, I want to say a movie was made using this exact storyline.

🧐

While that’s certainly a possibility, people need to remember that they already posses something far superior, far more authentic: their human connections.

Each of us can promote these connections daily in various ways:

• Smiling at others

• Being purposely kind

• Giving someone the temporary benefit of the doubt

• Drawing

• Writing by hand

• Scribbling

• Doodling

• Crafting

• Woodwork

• Painting

Practice your gifts and talents and share them with others in some way. It doesn't have to be significant to start a ripple effect.

• Post your drawing on the family fridge

• Smile at one stranger

• Throw crumbs out for the birds

• Refrain from smacking the moron who truly deserves it

One of the biggest ways we create, retain, and uphold our human connections is through keeping track of what happens in our daily lives, in our own words.

Dear Scribbler

Q. What good is writing in a diary or a journal if nobody believes your side of the story?

A. There are several benefits to doing this.

It's going to make you feel better. 

Maybe not awesome, depending on how bad things are, but it will shift you into a neutral state. From there, you will have more control over what you choose to do next.

You may not be ready to choose, but you’re acting on the power to choose by reserving the right to do so without being under the influence of crisis-flying chemicals the lizard part of your brain automatically provided you with in an effort to keep you safe.

You can write down what happened from your perspective. No one can stop you. NO ONE. It doesn’t matter what’s happening in your life, no one can stop you from doing this.

As you habitually journal or keep a diary, you'll develop a reputation for it.

If it's widely known you keep a journal or keep a diary, and especially, if you've been doing so for a very long time, it becomes easier to prove in some legal situations that your journal or diary entries are authentic. A legal matter might also be solved if it can be shown to the court the habit or style of journaling or diary entries you keep.

For example:

Let's say you do a typical bullet journaling style, and you do this for several months consistently. An entry might look like this:

- Worked out at gym on Maple

- Got groceries at Walmart. Total $76.22

- No bills arrived in the mail.

- Did dishes.

- Neighbor yelled at her kid again. 12.37pm

- Watched 2 episodes of Scarecrow and Mrs. King.

- Had dinner at Mike & Debbie's. She can't cook.

- Hi of 82. Predicted Low 52.

- Report due for boss tomorrow.

All these things leave clues that can help you or someone investigating a situation when you’re not being believed.

When someone starts digging and you have a habit of journaling, they will be able to take all the things you wrote and help determine your levels of credibility and your whereabouts. They will take those findings and cross-check them against what is being said by others who disagree with you.

• Which gym membership do you have? Is there a branch of it on Maple Street? If not, which gym is on Maple Street? What made you go there instead?

• Can the cameras at the grocery store place you there checking out earlier in the day? Does the total match or match close enough?

• Who are your neighbors, and why is one of them always yelling at her kid at roughly the same time every day?

• What did Mike and Debbie have for dinner? Will they say you were there for dinner that night?

• How closely does the weather report match? If there was inclement weather, and you usually note it, why didn't you this time? What made you forget to write it down?

• You're employed. Who's your boss, and what's your role at the company? Does the boss say you're dependable?

In this situation, let's say you're being accused of something: cheating on your significant other. If you were at the gym and getting groceries in the morning, how could you be seen coming out of so-n-so's house in that same time window?

See what I mean?

The more details you include, the more clues it provides to the future. 

You're literally preserving history by writing about what you think is a boring, mundane life, even if you talk to no one and are a recluse!

For example:

Janet came over around 10am. 10:20. I hate it when she's late, but this time, it's understandable. I'm glad she came over. We both needed to talk. She was visibly shook, of course. We all are.

I didn't realize how much I needed to talk about this. I knew the town had a siren alert system. It's even tested regularly. You just never expect it to go off. We each started with where we were when it happened. I was at Buster's Coffee on Fourth and Oak. Third booth back on the left, my favorite. I needed some time to think about what I was going to say to Graig about our argument the other day. It seems so silly now.

:( I remember holding the cup in my right hand and jumping when the alarm when off. I spilled a little coffee on my hand, set the cup down, looked around, and reached for my phone. It was 12:52pm. I had one missed call and six unknown notifications.

It took me a few seconds to realize the alarms weren't stopping. It was the wrong day. One man immediately left not long after I looked up from my phone. He ran as fast as he could up Oak. Didn't pay. Others were getting up.

I looked at the waitress. Cassy, I think her name is. The one that's always wearing the yellow ribbon on her chest. Oh, why can't I remember her name? I'm a regular there! She announced that everyone should calmly leave the cafe.

Cars started racing down the street. The sirens didn't stop. I suddenly found it hard to breathe, and like a dream, imagined myself running home, only to have it be too far, too long, and my legs turning to rubber.

Janet said she heard the sirens faintly from the kitchen and switched on the TV. It wouldn't come on no matter how many buttons she clicked.

As I started to walk outside with everyone else, I noticed I had no cell signal. All I could think about was getting home. The red sedan came careening around the corner then, overcompensated for speed, and smashed into the blue mailbox not far from us. We all began running in the opposite direction.

Graig. Was he alright? I didn't know what was happening. I'm not sure any of us did. I just kept moving.

In the future, people trying to place together what happened on a certain day will be able to corroborate what happened as they compare the different things written down by you and others. In this situation, someone else may have written down that the red car was a compact car or something larger, like an old-fashioned Station Wagon.

Recording things that happened from your perspective preserves part of the truth. Do you think it could matter if that red car were previously fleeing the scene of a crime that you were unaware of?

Handwritten entries, especially if you have a reputation for them, lend to authenticity, preserve facts, and provide clues for those who WILL believe you.

How exactly you journal is not the issue. It’s the patterns you leave when you do.

Writing by hand is never a lost cause.

One Line

One-liners are sentences meant to prompt your memories and stimulate your creativity. Use them, if you want, to see what your brain comes up with. Do you see an image in your mind, feel something, remember something?

Whatever it is, start writing it down. There's no right or wrong answer. 🥳

Motionless and contorted, it looked dead.

Mission

Appreciate nature. Be grateful for your life. Be grateful for your voice. Be kind to someone.

My logic:

• They were cheap.

• They are stackable.

• They aren't too thick.

• The paper isn't too nice.

• No fancy pens are required.

Just a good notebook to keep a few highlights in as I travel.

These are my logbooks.

I do my best not to do brain dumps in these. Mostly, over the years, they've stayed somewhat pure from this.

Intentions are everything.

I wanted to be able to open these up years later and see the highlights, and not even perfect highlights. Just the highlights.

There's no formula, no bullets to fill in or check off (although there could be if you wanted that). There are no set dates to write in them.

Here's where the magic takes place: Every once in a while, I drag out the latest logbook, write the date in the next available spot on a page, the city and state I'm in, sometimes the day of the week, and I just record the highlights.

Here's what this looks like:

Hot, 85F for a high. Picked up the mail in San Antonio, TX. Worked from the Denny's diner the last three days. Spending about $55 a day on food. Slept at a truck stop for two nights before manager asked me to move on. Not sure what to think about it here.

The next entry might be similar:

Storm came in last night. Almost got hit by semi backing into the spot next to me. Makes me nervous. Saw a deer in the brush. Mad at my boss. Guy parked on the other side of me has his car chocked to the brim full of belongings. Don't know how people sleep like that. If you're gonna live in your rig, keep it clean.

Next:

— Expenses for the month of December: —

Parking/lodging: Amount

Food: Amount

Insurance: Amount

....

Paid the bills for January today. Maintenance on the van cost $800 this time.

Skunk trapped in the men's bathroom in the next campground over. I have no idea how they got it out.

And so on.

There's no prerequisite for this except just to write down some stuff.

Don't make this complicated.

You aren't journaling.

You are keeping a "highlights" or a "reels" or a "logbook”. Nothing more. Tell yourself, one day, you'll even discard them. It's just for fun.

Later, you probably won't throw them out.

If you refrain from doing massive brain dumps in the entries and keep it to the highlights like this, several years later, you'll be able to see hints and clues about your whereabouts, the timeline of your travels, and some of the amazing adventures you really did end up having.

Yes, even if your life feels the same day after day.

I promise you it isn't.

Things happen in your life daily, either to you or things you're observing or thinking about. Jot down the highlights of these.

Write this stuff down.

It’s only random and boring to you.

Later, these books can be used to help you place your whereabouts during an investigation or can give your future generations a peek into the life you used to live.

Even in the highlights, there are lessons to piece together.

Your life is powerful even when you feel it’s boring.

These highlights help others who have never met you.

Are you going to let it go to waste?

Humanity wants to see your logbooks.

I promise you, nobody will forget about the time the skunk was trapped in the bathroom.

Dear Scribbler

Q. The thought of writing several pages feels overwhelming. There's no way I can keep up with a habit like this. I don't have time. I quit before I started. I'm not too fond of this. I want to leave something behind for future generations. How do I find a way forward?

A. Journaling doesn't have to be these long, drawn-out pages of self-reflection, discovery, or personal rants. On the other side of things, bullet journaling has its place. While others enjoy bullet journaling, others find it too rigid.

What's the right system to use?

The one you can stick with.

I know what you're thinking. That might vary based on location, day, and situation, right? Do you waffle between deciding on paper or digital?

Forget all of that. Just carry a cheap, stackable, medium-sized notebook that fits into your bag.

As you experience in-between moments like waiting for a conference call at work to begin or while waiting on a friend, you'll have a few minutes to jot a few things down.

Example:

Today's date, city, state, (time?). Elderly couple just left the cafe. He was very kind to her, calling her beautiful. She was graceful and appreciative. He held the door open for her even though he struggled with the weight of it. She allowed it and they walked away together. Work is fine. Kids are fine. Dog is fine. Everything is fine. I'm bored. Maybe a little lonely.

Boom. Done.

It's nothing major, nothing earth-shattering.

But it is there and you did it. 

As you keep doing it (again, there's no set pressure or time, just do it as you think about it), you're going to start accumulating entries in these notebooks.

When you fill one up, you write the start date (from your first entry if known) to the last one you just made. Consider adding "Volume 1" to the cover page or spine of the book somewhere. File it away. Start another one. Forget about the first one.

Keep doing this, and eventually, you'll have a string of small logbooks to pilfer through later on.

Parts of your life might seem boring, but in these pages, you're leaving pieces of yourself that resurrect every time the words are read.

To future generations, your words are priceless.

Your life is priceless. People want to hear your stories, even if it’s just the highlights.

Start jotting them down.

It all starts with one line. 👇

One Line

One-liners are sentences meant to prompt your memories and stimulate your creativity. Use them, if you want, to see what your brain comes up with. Do you see an image in your mind, feel something, remember something?

Whatever it is, start writing it down. There's no right or wrong answer. 🥳

I was there that day.

Mission

Start a logbook and pack it with you. Jot down small things as you feel inclined.

Each one has meaning. Each one is significant. Each has a message, even when the stroke is only one part of a greater whole. Each stroke you make carries energy and emotion.

You feel like you're falling apart, but you're creating.

You feel like you're crying out, but you're crying up to the only One who can hear what words do not say.

Dear Scribbler

Q. I work a lot, and I have very little privacy when I come home. I live with seven people. We all have different schedules. I share a room with another roommate. Most everyone is cool, but sometimes you need some space. I don't feel comfortable writing in a journal here. There's at least one person here who snoops, I think. I need to start writing stuff down, though. I don't want to keep it all on my phone. What should I do?

A. Your best bet is to journal away from your home and keep the journal in a place where no one will find it. This means hiding it super well.

👉 No one method of storage or hiding a journal is 100% safe, and this is something you'll have to accept.

Consider disguising it and putting it inside a hollowed-out book nobody reads.

Try placing it on grips and hooks behind picture frames or on the underside of a drawer where you keep your clothes.

Are there any spots in the attic you can hide it?

Please don't put it in the basement. Sometimes there's unexpected water damage or possible carbon monoxide issues from appliances possibly kept there.

If you can't hide it in the house or don't feel safe doing that, consider keeping that journal on your person pretty much all the time. Buy a different bag to put all your gear in so it will fit too.

Depending on the situation, you might consider renting the smallest storage locker (bank deposit box even?) and leaving the journal there for safer keeping.

There are several digital journaling solutions. Some third-party journaling softwares also comes with encryption. I do not explore those heavily at the moment, so cannot recommend a good digital solution.

I know from previous personal experiences that keeping the notebook or journal on my person at all times was the best method.

If you're worried about it falling into the wrong hands, consider using coding or special characters to cover up some of the letters and words you write. Instead of a person's full name, Alice, write "A" instead of Alice's name. You could also have a code written down you reference while journaling but then store the journal separately from the code.

If you know another language, you could try journaling in that too.

My grandmother kept her journals in legal shorthand from the 70s in spiral-bound notebooks.

She kept many of her secrets close.

Don't wait to journal until you have the perfect solution. Just start. Keep the journal with you or locked away somewhere safe when you can't. Worry about a perfect solution later.

One Line

One-liners are sentences meant to prompt your memories and stimulate your creativity. Use them, if you want, to see what your brain comes up with. Do you see an image in your mind, feel something, remember something?

Whatever it is, start writing it down. There's no right or wrong answer. 🥳

His body seemed relaxed, except his hand rubbed the edge of the chair.

Mission

Sit in the first chair you see. Look straight ahead. Write down what you see. Do your best to be as descriptive as possible. It is not necessary to get it in the correct order. Just write down what you're seeing as it comes to you. Talk about the color, the textures you think are there, and the emotions you think what you're looking at it feels or causes you to feel.

You might even progress towards your goals and dreams but, for whatever reason, find yourself stuck at certain points.

There is glory in these challenges.

Each one of them causes you to dig a little deeper or grow in different directions in an attempt to solve your problem.

Every attempt is another attempt at finding the treasure you seek.

There is a hidden purpose in spinning your wheels.

Usually, you're looking for "how to" solve or do something, right? To figure out what you "should be doing."

Digging is hard.

It's frustrating.

You may not be able to see the HOW involved in making it happen.

What you want may not even be real or possible at all, right? Sometimes that happens. But right now, you need to identify what IT IS you want for yourself.

That is your only goal.

I want you to try an experiment.

Write nonsense stuff.

Write about anything and everything except the problem you're struggling with. Can't think of anything to write? BASEBALLS. Write the first thing that came to mind when I said “BASEBALLS.”

For some reason, for me, an imaginary scene from the 80s came to mind where John Candy is standing on a baseball field. My mind immediately then jumps to another movie: Field of Dreams. This makes me remember my early young adulthood and some of the adventures my friends and I had. I can look back and see how I never gave myself enough credit for what I was good at. Never. Today, I can forgive myself.

Let your mind wander everywhere.

Write about your feeling about sports, gender issues, memes, or the sideways comment your mother-in-law left lingering over the hot, soapy dishwater the other night, how the neighbor truly bothers you, or about the delicious nachos that one place used to have on Evergreen street.

It could be one word, one sentence, one paragraph, one page, or several pages.

You might have to write several pages to come up with one word.

There's never a problem with that.

That's excellent, actually. 

• Writing out those several pages does not mean you don't know what you want.

• It doesn't mean you're stuck and can't figure out how to solve your problems.

• It doesn't mean you're avoiding any problems.

Writing out those several pages means you're willing to dig deeper to find the truth, even when you're scribbling about nonsense stuff.

The truth is so important to you, you're willing to make time to explore.

You know if you can find the answer, you'll have found the puzzle piece you've been seeking the entire time. So you keep scribbling, you keep writing.

Maybe you start doodling.

Right, yeah? DO IT.

Yeah.

Feel it. Squeeze the writing utensil a little harder and then let go. Feather it.

Did you drop it?

Did you laugh?

Good. Put the writing utensil down.

(😱 Me ignoring the audible gasp from the back...)

Stop trying to dig for this treasure purposely.

Instead, I want you to play with your hobbies, your family, your loved ones. Play games. Solve mysteries. Do anything other than try to dig for the treasure.

I know you believe the treasure will solve your current problems.

The answers you're looking for aren't going anywhere.

You won't miss them.

They are still inside of you. You need time to see things from a different perspective.

Dear Scribbler

Q. I've done your "writing" bit, and what I'm left with just leaves me feeling like complete garbage. Your advice is bu11sh&t. None of this makes sense. You're a complete fraud. What do you think about THAT?

A. First off, I'm glad to see you in touch with your feelings and finding words to express yourself. I'm honored that you feel safe enough to direct your momentary anger at me. Sometimes that's allowed, and sometimes that's OK.

Let's just sit with that for a moment. Let's count down from 60. 60-59-58-57-56....

Deep breath in and hold. Exhale.

Repeat.

Feel a little better? Less angry?

Awesome.

Now, let's take a look at what you're looking for with your writing. You're trying to solve a problem you have. There's a high chance you're looking for the solution of how to solve his problem with your current knowledge, experiences, and perceived resources, right?

We all do.

But here's what I've learned.

Every time I get stuck right where you're at, I now remember and understand two things:

1. The problem isn't necessarily what I think it is.

2. The solution is just all wrong.

But when you're in the middle of this, you don't always remember that and can't always see it. That’s normal.

Gaining clarity is key.

To do that, I'm gonna have you tackle this from a different perspective.

Next time, when you're exploring possible solutions, I want you to not put qualifiers around what you want out of life for your future.

Do not put boundaries around it. Do not say to yourself, "I can't because...." or "That will never happen because...".

NO. Those things might feel true, but it doesn't mean they are. And again, those things you're struggling with may not be the problem.

Knowing what the actual problem is requires you to identify the actual NEED you have first.

Could it be the actual problem is not feeling safe all the time?

Is it possible all the things you currently balance are simply in an effort to keep you feeling safe?

How would you view the problem you're trying to solve if you felt 100% safe at all times?

It might look different, right?

Coming at your problem from a "What do I actually NEED?" perspective first helps you zoom out on the problem that's robbed you of your focus. Being reeled in like this, is not necessarily your fault. It's pretty common.

I promise you, if you dig in the right directions, you have a higher chance of experiencing that breakthrough discovery that leads you to the treasure you were looking for in ways and in circumstances they never could have thought.

Unearthing those things is treasure at its finest.

Keeping scribbling. You've got this.

One Line

One-liners are sentences meant to prompt your memories and stimulate your creativity. Use them, if you want, to see what your brain comes up with. Do you see an image in your mind, feel something, remember something?

Whatever it is, start writing it down. There's no right or wrong answer. 🥳

He leaned his head back against the shoulder strap, and I wondered how long it'd been since he'd slept.

Mission

Grab the most recent piece of junk mail you've received (paper or digital). Write a letter by hand detailing how you feel about their proposal, what you think of their industry, and what they would have to do to gain your business, and end the letter with the choice you're choosing to act on whether it’s unsubscribing, shredding their mail, buying their product, creating a shopping list, etc. It does not have to be a long letter.

You've heard repeatedly how journaling (in any form) helps you spot patterns, resolve issues, and give you insight into what direction you need to be taking.

Saying it's cathartic is an understatement.

But what happens if you're writing everything down but still can't see the problem?

Dear Scribbler

Q. What if I get stuck while journaling and can't get to the root of the problem or my frustration?

A. The goal is to get it out.

Writing it all down, no matter how it looks, no matter how it sounds, no matter how it makes you feel, no matter what order the letters or the words happen in, is critical.

Just. Get. It. Out.

That's the first order of business.

Write until you feel better, less anxious, calmer, less angry, like you can focus on whatever it is you were trying to focus on. When you finish, resume your task.

The only goal of the first part is to feel better. You need to be able to function without certain levels of distraction.

Figuring out the root of the issue might take a little longer. That part everyone experiences differently.

As you live life or keep track of it in your journals, you'll notice that some patterns resurface repeatedly for years (sometimes less) until we start seeing common threads.

Often we see symptoms of problems like seething frustrations on the job, breakdowns in relationships, difficulty coping with emotions, or a generalized feeling of discontent, but we can't always pinpoint why.

For any scenario in which I cannot readily identify the problem, I've learned to ask myself one question:

👉 What do I really want? 👈

Not what my parents want, not what society wants, not what my religion wants -- no.

For once, what do I want? What should be happening with the situation that's bothering me?

Please keep in mind you're not going to disobey anything you shouldn't be violating, and you are not betraying yourself or anyone around you by simply asking a question.

Be honest about it. I want - fill in the blank -. And I want --- fill in some more stuff.

You're not writing a college paper or a cover letter for a job application.

You will not even necessarily act on what you’re writing about. You’re just asking and answering a question.

You are alone with yourself. Right here. Right now. Ask yourself, what is IT that YOU WANT.

Write it down.

Writing everything down all the time allowed me to look back, see patterns, gain clarity, and provide the appropriate space to be 100% brutally honest about how I felt and what I really wanted.

Once you see what you want (you'll know it when the answer comes out of you), only later today, tomorrow, in the coming months, can you "chew on it" for a bit and process the different pieces of it.

• Why do you feel that way?

• What is it about the scenario that you've named that feels right to you?

• Is it the situation or circumstance you want or the feelings and possibly other freedoms that come with it? (The later is more common than you think.)

• If it's the deeper feelings you're after or for things to feel resolved for you, what other ways can those feelings be accomplished?

Now you can start exploring these things.

As you think and process each part of it, you're going to find what you want may morph and change and even become clearer in detail.

• Your thoughts matter.

• Your needs and your wants matter.

• How you feel matters.

You can ask yourself questions and develop raw and honest answers.

Knowing what you want helps you see what isn’t happening in your life and can shine the spotlight on areas you may haven’t noticed yet.

Combined, these two things can help you find the root of your frustration or problem and the direction to start changing it.

One Line

One-liners are sentences meant to prompt your memories and stimulate your creativity. Use them, if you want, to see what your brain comes up with. Do you see an image in your mind, feel something, remember something?

Whatever it is, start writing it down. There's no right or wrong answer. 🥳

There were more stars out that night than I had ever seen before.

Mission

Remember when you were last outside at night, whether alone or not. Remember, looking up at the sky. Write what you remember seeing and what it made you think of.

You're doing things right this very second in your life that most people won't or can't partake in.

The hobbies you play with, the tools or parts you tinker with, the tiny little fabric things you create, the weird and awkward poems that you scribble in a secret notebook, the spice rack in your cupboard that you combine, create, and mix, and more, are all things YOU do, that other people do not do well.

For you, they are normal.

• Maybe you have a unique way with animals.

• Maybe you can look at an outfit and recreate it on the fly with scraps you have in the backroom.

• Maybe you're scary accurate with almost any weapon you wield.

• Perhaps nobody takes you fishing any longer because you'll end up with fish at the end of your line every single time when others do not.

• Maybe you're that person in your neighborhood that can eyeball the couch, the bunk beds, and the shelving, and know immediately whether the new piece of furniture fits, and you're always right.

These things come easily to you. For others, they struggle, and you wonder why. You think, "Can't everybody do that?"

You know precisely what gifting and natural talents you embody as you read this. They bubble up to the front of your mind even now.

Simultaneously, you discount or doubt their importance.

They feel too mundane, too dull, too ordinary.

If life has you busier than you'd like, you don't even see how easy it is for you to integrate your gifts and talents. You use them as tools constantly, naturally, without even thinking about it.

Today, I want you to stop and see how meaningful each of these things is to the people you impact.

I'm talking about the tiniest actions you take that make a difference.

Each of your gifts and talents provides brush strokes of hope.

In turn, the next person feels positive enough to do a good thing for someone else, often integrating their gifts and talents (again, without realizing it.)

In this community (although many of you choose to remain silent and super stealthy), we have:

• A great-grandmother who creates smiles with fabric, slow-stitching, and one-of-a-kind craft creations. Each squeezable. Each is a miniature hug and a silent reminder of "I love you," for the recipient.

• A young woman who is equally skilled in the kitchen as she is on the firing range.

• A businessman who thinks profoundly and shares his nuggets of wisdom with strangers.

• A young woman who breeds Ragdoll cats.

• A young man using internet templates to create intros and outros for video creators. You only have to "kind of" tell him what you're interested in, and he almost nails the feeling you were trying to convey every time.

• People who thrive on writing and receiving handwritten letters.

• Businessmen and women who secretly crave the quiet of being able to focus on their odd hobbies if only life would let them.

And, of course, many, many more that are too numerous to mention.

Everything you do starts with ideas. Those ideas or curiosities led you to learn more.

At some point in this journey, you wrote something by hand, even if it was random scribbling to ensure the pen still worked.

You wrote something:

• A grocery list for your next recipe

• Your signature releasing liability to the establishment you visit

• A rough design of the next creation

• Color splotches by stylus onto an image

• The note you passed to a friend

• Notes from your research

And on and on and on.

Friend, these seemingly inconsequential acts of writing by hand are literally helping you progress in who you are as an individual. They are helping you discover, practice, and hone the crafts that positively impact others around you.

Never be afraid to jot something down, to trace something back, or to scribble an idea.

When you don't scribble, you rob the world of your greatness.

Dear Scribbler

Q. I’m just kind of sick of everything, and I don’t know if that makes any sense or not. I get up, lounge around watching videos, and go to work. I feel -meh- at work. It’s not terrible or anything. I come home, I play video games or watch movies. Sometimes I meet up with friends, but I feel like there’s more for me, but I have no idea what it is, where to look, or how to come up with ideas. What should I do?

A. This is both normal and interesting.

First, know that I’m not a doctor, lawyer, or anything like that, and I’m not giving legal, medical, or financial advice.

I have some questions. I have a lot of questions. Your ask doesn’t provide much background info, and that’s all right. Let’s see if some of these questions can help you get to the next step.

1. Do you feel OK most of the time?
   
   I mean, you know, blah is OK. Dissatisfaction is OK. But do you feel hopeless, dark, sad, or gloomy most of the time, or do you feel OK most of the time, even if it is just indifferent? If you’re feeling dark, hopeless, gloomy, and stormy most of the time, the internet and some medical sites will tell you to see a doctor, OK? But that’s up to you.
   
   I know what it’s like to have people tell me stuff like that, and they don’t even know me. It’s a little irritating when they assume you’re on the brink of disaster and you’re really just angry and fed up with life and want to choose a different direction, or just needing to vent a little, and they literally cannot tell the difference between the two.
   
   But, for the sake of argument, and being considerate of someone who might genuinely need some medical care who might be reading this, we need to ask those questions.
   
   Remember, even us irritating question-askers care. ☺️
   
   Ok - so let’s say you DON’T feel OK most of the time. Consider getting checked out by a medical professional. While you’re at it, drink more water, get some fresh air, go for more walks, watch more comedies, and consider journaling for a little bit. There is always some kind of help available!
   
   Now let’s say you DO feel OK most of the time. This brings me to my next question.
   

2. When you say you’re sensing something “more” for you, can you describe what that looks and feels like for you?
   
   In other words, what types of images first pop to mind when you’re trying to describe this to others? Most people see things in their minds or feel something in their bodies but sometimes cannot find the right words.
   
   Try coming up with images of what “more” looks and feels like to you. Jot them down. When someone else asked me this question, I answered, “It feels like chocolate cake in my soul.”
   
   Your answer doesn’t have to make sense to anyone but you.
   

3. This part has three questions:
   
   A) Write down what you liked to do as a kid.
   
   This might look like: “I liked trying to recreate movie scenes with my toys and things from my surroundings.”
   
   B) Write down the the things that surprised you and fascinated you for a moment during your childhood.
   
   This might look like: “Once, I found an old Boy Scout handbook that gave basic first-aid instructions. My dad was an EMT for a time. This led me to take the book back to my room and notice all the other survival methodologies it would contain. Later in life, I would fall in with the ‘prepping for the zombie apocolypse’ crowd. I never monetized this knowledge, but I know how to survive now during emergencies and off-grid scenarios.” 😜
   
   C) Write down activities you found yourself feeling wholly carefree and engaged in.
   
   This might look like: “For me, it was walking on foot with a backpack full of a day’s supply of food down the street. (Really, it was just lunch, good enough till dinner, because, let’s be honest, I was 11 and wasn’t allowed to do much). The other thing was coasting on my bike or rollerblades on smooth pavement. Later in life, I would take to vagabonding for a bit.”
   
   You’ll notice that most of the answers you come up with have a common denominator to them: being curious, being present, and trying new things without being attached to the end goal.
   
   What activities do you do today that leave you with feelings of curiosity, being present, and leaving you willing to try new things without being attached to the end goal?
   

4. Is there anything you’ve been toying around with lately that you’d like to try? Do you want to learn a new language, visit a new city, or enroll in a beginner class for a topic entirely different for you?
   
   My follow-up question to this is, why don’t you?

We often think we have to have everything figured out to accomplish our “more,” but that’s not it. The key is to be curious and to permit yourself to try something new.

Yep, it could fail. It could be terrible.

Just try. You don’t even have to tell anybody.

Around here, we pride ourselves on being stealthy.

You do not have to READ all the books you’re looking at, but rather skim the contents to see if anything else stands out to you.

If your itch is satisfied or you feel like it’s “forced” for you to continue down that path, hand the books/media back. No problem.

It’s free.

Keep trying this with different topics and interests until your curiosity remains. You’ll know when you’ve hit on something when you keep going back for books/media on the same topic OR when it sparks another idea you didn’t know you were looking for! That new idea might take you down a completely different path. That’s super encouraging because you wouldn’t have had that idea unless you were looking at the first thing. 😍

The thought of you discovering what your “more” is very exciting.

Happy hunting!

One Line

One-liners are sentences meant to prompt your memories and stimulate your creativity. Use them, if you want, to see what your brain comes up with. Do you see an image in your mind, feel something, remember something?

Whatever it is, start writing it down. There's no right or wrong answer. 🥳

The ink on the letter still looked fresh when I unrolled it.

Mission

Imagine you just found a letter in a bottle. The letter is still readable. Write down the first thing that comes to mind.

Everyone else I met on the walk had heads up, shoulders back, and stern looks.

All of them.

Three teenagers sat below at the bus stop line. I complimented them on how well they blended in. I didn't fully see them sitting in their dark clothes in the shade until I was almost upon them. I was trying to be encouraging. Being stealthy could save them one day.

The compliment didn't land well.

It was 78F, and I was in my T-shirt and sunglasses.

As I passed them, I simultaneously delivered the compliment and noticed the multiple layers they wore. Two shirts and coats, all of them. Head caps, hoods, jackets, and their shoes held together with duct tape. I noticed the dirt in places where it'd been much too long.

Young.

Too young.

12-14, maybe?

Homeless.

• Were they on their way to a friend’s house? A place to eat? A sleeping spot?

• If they had homes, were they safe and provided for?

• Did they have parents? Did their parents care?

Walking past them, I pretended not to notice these things. I know, and they know, and they know I know. They said nothing, only returning to me the same stern look I saw in the others.

Their faces remained stern. The compliments were not accepted.

They began whispering to themselves and eyeing me up and down. I tried to ignore my heightened senses and allowed the edge of fear to propel my pace slightly faster.

• What are the chances there are valuables in that bag of hers?

• Can we get away with it right now and not miss the bus?

• Can we afford to go to juvie tonight?

Half a block later, rounding the corner, I found myself alone.

I'm out of shape, well aware of my inability to outrun a true threat. I could possibly fend off one of them, but not all three together.

Had they attacked, I would have been significantly injured for my choice. This scenario wouldn’t have readily entered the imagination a few decades ago.

Today, things are a little more unpredictable.

I completed my errands and walked back.

Other pedestrians joined me on my way down the hill, but their energy felt dark and angry. One person kept pace behind me, a little too close for comfort.

I veered off into the bank parking lot beneath the cameras I noticed on my way up. I stayed in the bank parking lot, cutting across more than one commercial property to avoid the crowds.

My nice afternoon walk turned into an exercise in hyperawareness.

Life is extra expensive in the Pacific Northwest right now.

Many of these people have long commutes, and the economy is stretching their spending power extra thin. If they have multiple jobs or trouble at home, they aren’t sleeping well on top of everything else they juggle.

People can only take so much for so long.

We are sometimes forced to work to our breaking points. When it's not good enough, we can be driven into the streets, regardless of age, capability, or circumstance.

Returning to the van and locking myself in, I counted my blessings once more:

• A roof over my head

• A job that pays enough

• People who would care if I went missing

Counting our blessings puts things into perspective, balancing and transforming some of our loads.

Being grateful doesn't protect us from life's circumstances.

While making plans, it's always good to be realistic, slow down if necessary, and choose different paths to help you be more secure as you move forward.

Sometimes navigating faster means taking time to reflect, think, and analyze before making your next move.

Dear Scribbler

No questions were received this week.

One Line

One-liners are sentences meant to prompt your memories and stimulate your creativity. Use them, if you want, to see what your brain comes up with. Do you see an image in your mind, feel something, remember something?

Whatever it is, start writing it down. There's no right or wrong answer. 🥳

Every day, at 10:30 am, two rabbits jump across the driveway, hide under the bushes, and ignore the squirrels that follow.

Mission

Go outdoors or view an image of the outdoors. Write down everything you see in the order you notice it. Everything in the image you’re looking at. Try to be detailed.

As we become adults, many learn various economic survival or success systems, and how to deal with legal troubles or difficult situations in general.

But what happens when those systems stop working?

• What happens when you're working as hard as you are only to find yourself in extreme dissatisfaction or burnout with no plausible solution to change the situation?

• What if the answers you're looking for are already staring you in the face?

• Worse yet, what if you intuitively know the answers exist, but for whatever reason, you can't see them no matter what you do?

Writing by hand is the system that lives between the tip of your writing utensil and the surface you're about to mark up.

Dear Scribbler

Q. How is writing by hand a tool of self-discovery and problem-solving?

A. Even intending to write by hand starts generating the energy and momentum you need to create a new future and solve your current problems.

Acting on that intention with the small act of placing the writing utensil directly onto the surface of what you intend to write on makes the intention a reality.

Before I get too far into this, I want to stop there.

Pick up a writing utensil and place it on a surface. Just that action alone. Don't scribble. Don't write.

Don't do anything but hold the tip of the writing utensil on the surface.

Do you notice, now in this moment, you feel different?

Try it again.

Lift up the writing utensil and put it back on the surface, slower if necessary. Can you feel something starting right before they touch?

There's a gap right there. That gap is literally gathering the energy you're creating.

With every breath you take, you have more power within you than every byte of false advertising, false beliefs, lies, doubt, and crushed dreams that ever existed.

Your intentions generate this energy.

Your actions purposely direct that energy into something you create.

Can any enemy actually stop you from creating an intention and, in some way, shape, or form, mentally or emotionally acting on that intention?

Writing by hand and scribbling in all its forms physically directs that energy at that moment to start changing everything.

As you write, permit yourself to allow the thoughts to come, without force, in whatever order they appear. Write them down. Write about your perspectives, your feelings, your anger, your dreams, and your pain.

All of it.

When you're done, you're going to start feeling better. Relief comes.

In that relief, you can let go, even if you didn't feel like you came up with the solution you needed.

Once you feel this relief, circuits in your brain aren't botched up by pent-up energy. Now they're free to start making connections between the data that's already there. Those connections within you lead you to another piece of your puzzle.

Repeat the writing process each time you're stuck (just getting it all out without expectation). Each time you're removing clutter from your mind, releasing stuck energy, and literally propelling yourself forward.

Here's another secret:

The movements are sometimes so small in this process, and because we are so close to everything we touch, we don't recognize participation in this process as an actual movement.

Writing by hand (in all its variations and flavors) helps uncover the actual problems you're facing and, often, the solutions we need to fix them.

One Line

One-liners are sentences meant to prompt your memories and stimulate your creativity. Use them, if you want, to see what your brain comes up with. Do you see an image in your mind, feel something, remember something?

Whatever it is, start writing it down. There's no right or wrong answer. 🥳

The fuzz on the tips didn't move as the wind blew.

Mission

Print your name and then sign your name.

Writing your name claims your space and shows the world you "were here." You never have to apologize for existing. Signing your name enforces your power.

We shared the responsibilities of cooking, cleaning, running errands, shuttling children, etc., all of us numb and deep in grief.

My son's father and I hadn't been married in 14 years. His passing was unexpected.

Sitting there facing the urn and the flowers for an hour, I found the service to be more complex than expected.

It made everything real.

The objects were an in-your-face reminder that this person was truly gone.

Our very tall, near-17-year-old leaned on me once.

The local church prepared a feast that was packed up and sent home. I was relieved we wouldn't be crammed in the kitchen, each of us trying to continue fixing overwhelming emotions through cooking and baking.

That night, none of us needed to do anymore.

This Father's Day, my son doesn't get to wish his father a "Happy Father's Day." Some of you have also lost your fathers.

There are no gifts to present, no conversations to be had, and no special bonding to take place on this plane of existence.

My son's father is no longer here to teach my son how to do many of the things a young man needs a father to do: spot and kill different snakes, better methods of being efficient with your work, how to woo women, or how to not freak out when you drive on the freeway the first few times. He is no longer here to bond with, to watch re-runs of Impractical Jokers with, or to discuss politics.

Fathers that are gone are no longer here to be angry with or to forgive in person.

My son's father died on a September day, early in the afternoon.

It takes nine months for a baby to develop. Nine months to go through most of the major holidays in the United States, which are now heavily stained with a slight stench of stale something or other. Between his passing and now, they've been challenging and awkward.

Will it take nine months each year for my son to grow and heal layer-by-layer from his father's passing?

This is the second Father's Day without him.

The first one, we were deep in our travels. We went to the movies that day and went out to eat in honor of him.

There was no way my efforts made up for his father's absence and no way the attempts to honor his father that day didn't leave his heart feeling every bit of the newly permanent absence.

I tried to prop it up without having it all come crumbling down.

I could viscerally feel the pain he tried to hide with every attempt I made.

He was his father.

Very few scenarios exist where a man can be replaced as a father. My ex-husband was nowhere near perfect, but nobody in my son's life deserved to have that man quickly and unexpectedly ripped from their life.

Before I last saw my son in the spring, I gave him a leather-bound journal. I thought maybe he could use this to write letters to his dad.

The mention of it left an awkward silence.

I tried to recover quickly from my blunder, "Or grocery lists and to-do-lists and stuff, or you know — you can give it away. It's yours to do with as you please."

My attempts to channel male bravado at the moment failed miserably.

• Will my son try this exercise?

• Will he try writing to someone no longer with us who will never be forgotten?

• Will there be soft words surrounding his traditional Cuban cooking, the laughs shared, and gratefulness for the protectiveness over the safety of him and his siblings?

• Will there be guarded words surrounding the cautionary tales of communism he shared from growing up on and escaping the large Caribbean island?

• Will harsh words be written in all capital letters and then covered in myriad scribbles to confront realizations or unresolved anger?

• Will there be forgiving words for all of it, because he is no longer here, and something must transform or be truly forgiven to heal?

My son is grown and on his own now. I won't be present this year due to my travels.

This year, he's physically without a father or a mother.

I'll call, of course, but it won't be the same.

I'm not Dad. I never will be. No one will be. Ever.

Today, take a small moment and be grateful for your biological parents, dead or alive. You're here because of them. If that's all you can be thankful for, then be grateful for just that.

Sometimes, it's OK to acknowledge that for some of you, that was literally their only purpose. If you weren't here, your grandchildren or great-grandchildren wouldn't be here either.

For some of you, procreation was their sole purpose and gift, even if they never knew it.

Today, embrace step-fathers, adoptive fathers, men exhibiting father-like traits, and men encouraging and mentoring the younger generation of men who aspire to become fathers.

Celebrate Father's Day in any way that's meaningful to you and that brings you peace.

Try to honor the good no matter what your relationship is or was with your father on this day.

• Be flexible.

• Be kind to yourself.

• Be kind to others on this day.

Happy Father's Day to all the men, living or dead, whoever attempted to teach us or a child anything full of value or good.

The good we leave behind in those around us are memories, teachings, knowledge, and legacies.

Some fathers may be missing now, but they are never forgotten.

Dear Scribbler

There were no submissions this week.

One Line

One-liners are sentences meant to prompt your memories and stimulate your creativity. Use them, if you want, to see what your brain comes up with. Do you see an image in your mind, feel something, remember something?

Whatever it is, start writing it down. There's no right or wrong answer. 🥳

The silver reflected against the water, and the wind was high.

Mission

Write your thoughts and feelings about your father, no matter what they are. Just get it out. It can be one word or many. Be kind to yourself. Let yourself feel everything if it is painful, and write in any way that makes you come back into a neutral or relieved state.

The Stealthy Scribbler Society believes in and encourages all past, present, and future members to embrace and promote the following tenets in accordance with their beliefs:

✍️ Stealthy Scribblers understand that writing by hand carries unique and powerful capabilities for shaping individual and collective futures.

〰️ Scribbling, apart from forming letters, is an act of writing by hand that is just as powerful as forming letters, words, and sentences.

💡Handwritten materials remain a constant beacon linking all humanity’s past, present, and future, wherever humans may have been or will be found in the universe.

🔗 Scribbling, in all its forms, connects us to the past, records the present, and shapes the future.

❌ All handwritten works, and other creations arising from these acts, do not need to be published to be valid.

🖥️ Stealthy Scribblers primarily practice writing or scribbling by hand regularly. When they cannot write or scribble by hand, regardless of cause or duration, they continue their work with available methods. Each type of writing and scribbling is valid, welcomed, and needed as part of a varied and vibrant society.

🧭 When Stealthy Scribblers feel lost, they write by hand, in all its forms, with any available method, until they find their way.

🤗 Even if a Stealthy Scribbler cannot join The Stealthy Scribbler Society, or must stop engaging with other members, that Stealthy Scribbler is still a member in spirit. These Stealthy Scribblers are encouraged to continue honing their skills, capturing and expressing their thoughts, and inspiring others to do the same.

💪 Stealthy Scribblers use writing tools to reflect, unwind, heal, rebel, problem-solve, plan, and enact.

💝 Writing by hand creates and affirms your space, creation, life’s work, calling, and purpose.

🙂 Stealthy Scribblers encourage others in scribbling, whether it’s random marking, letters, sentences, drawings, or other forms.

🖌️ All writing utensils and materials written on are valid.

🪫 Stealthy Scribblers understand beliefs and statements like “I’m not good at handwriting,” “My handwriting sucks,” or “Excuse my handwriting,” no longer retain power.

⏩ Writing by hand is a unified way forward in a divided and diverse world.

⚓ Writing by hand creates an immediate anchor point into the present.

🤌 Stealthy Scribblers uphold and encourage good while forbidding and denouncing evil.

🆘 Stealthy Scribblers perform good deeds often and often do not publicize them.

⬆️ Stealthy Scribblers remain honest and upright in all their dealings.

🏠 The true home of each Stealthy Scribbler is where their greatest joys and peace intersect.

📚The ability to read and write is a human right, equivalent in their need and purpose to the need to pursue life, liberty, and happiness.

📓Writing by hand is a unique power to the human race that should be taught, developed, and protected throughout a person’s life, regardless of school system choice or government ruling.
 
⚖️ Writing by hand should be universally protected by law.

📜 Stealthy Scribblers follow the laws of the land in their country, capturing and expressing their thoughts in whatever manner allowed. When those same laws forbid free speech, free thought, freedom of worship, or the ability to learn to read or write in a person’s own language, Stealthy Scribblers everywhere stand with the oppressed in supporting the capturing and expressing of thoughts in secret, in accordance with each person’s conscience.

❤️‍ Writing by hand is a powerful act of upholding truth, encouraging good, and promoting well-being while simultaneously being inexpensive, authentically human, and, when needed, a lawful act of rebellion.

🤯 Laws enacted to make scribbling and other acts of writing by hand illegal are abhorrent.

🔌 Writing by hand does not require electricity or a signal to be valid or effective. Therefore, it remains a steady constant through all of life’s phases, challenges, accomplishments, societal changes, international conflicts, and technological advancement.

🤖 While robots can write by hand, and artificial intelligence may learn to compose with emotion, only human beings create genuine, authentic, irreplicable connections through handwriting.

🤪 When the world, technology, society, laws, culture, relationships, or circumstances zig, Stealthy Scribblers use available writing utensils to zag.

🎓Life is a constant learning process, and Stealthy Scribblers always reserve time to learn something new or improve their current skills, regardless of the type.

🎁 Stealthy Scribblers learn from each other by periodically sharing their scribbles, scars, stealth tactics, and sometimes, their stamps.

🙏 Stealthy Scribblers write by hand to learn, understand what they think, communicate what needs to be said, and restore hope to neighbors, loved ones, and strangers.

💌 Regularly sending handwritten letters to others collectively creates a living heartbeat standing against the evils attempting to wreak havoc.

📌 When in doubt, always scribble.

At The Stealthy Scribbler Society, you’re never truly alone, your thoughts are never truly dismissed, and your intention to express, communicate, act and your works of writing by hand or other scribbling, join humanity’s collective growth, change, and legacy.

Your writing utensil and the power of your thoughts are literally two of the most transformative tools or weapons you can ever wield. You, alone, get to choose how and when to exercise and wield this power.

Any amount of writing by hand or scribbling is effective. Each stroke of the writing utensil adds to the collective and contributes to change in your world and those around you. Every time, even if you can’t visibly see it.

What will you scribble today?

Membership can be formal, such as staying subscribed to The Stealthy Scribbler, or stealthily, by simply remaining a member in spirit.

Officially joining or not joining The Stealthy Scribbler Society does not discount your truest identity.

You may unsubscribe at any time.

We understand some people may be unable to stay subscribed to the bulletins from headquarters. In these cases, you may remain 100% stealthy and never say a peep, quietly following at www.inkedsheets.com, or never subscribing to email communications from headquarters.

If this is the path you take, you are no less valuable.

Later, other paid offerings will become available as they come online.

When a person subscribes, they will be met with a page letting them choose the membership level or types of services to purchase. The free option is always included.

In your world, as you capture and express your thoughts and then interact with others, you are an unbeknownst hero, never seeing the long-lasting impact of your actions.

All of it is valid, and all of it is needed.

• Cave dwellers left their images and drawings on rock walls.

• Ancient jurists captured their laws by engraving them in stone.

• Jesus wrote in the dirt with his finger.

• Dedicated individuals used voice memorization and inks on parchments, skins, and scrolls to preserve scripture.

• Writers of old used pencils, ink, and mechanical typewriters to create masterpieces.

• Parents, grandparents, and children record thoughts in journals or diaries and pass notes.

• Teachers use chalk, markers, and fonts to instill and curate knowledge.

• Students use notebooks and electronic devices to learn how to organize and express their thinking.

• Pen pals exchange ideas and feelings on pages sent with delayed deliveries to their respective mailboxes.

• Countries and their allies rely on coded messages for critical strategy.

• Musicians and songwriters record notes and words, speaking to the souls of millions.

• Artists move with shades of color or with prompts to create unique visual pieces.

• Architects draw up the structures we use.

• Scientific and technological advancement moves forward by recording research and findings.

• Historians preserve and comb through older records, learning from the past to contribute to the future.

Not everyone publishes these works. Publishing is never required.

Writing by hand changes how we hear, see, and feel through life’s situations and circumstances.

The act of scribbling allows us to find our most authentic selves. When we change on the inside or gain clarity into what we face, we’re free to act from a place of solidity. We reclaim our power and eventually change our circumstances.

Scribbles, and the act of writing by hand, come in various flavors, types, sizes, meanings, intentions, and outcomes.

• Did you write your name today?

• Did you tally a total?

• Did you accidentally leave ink across a surface?

• Did the crayon break?

• Was the charcoal smudged on your hands?

• Did you have to clean any brushes?

• Did you write silently and tuck away the pages for safekeeping?

Will these scribbles give anyone else insight into the true you, for you, at this moment?

Are you starting to see how powerful this is?

We do this primarily by writing on any surface, using any allowable tool or medium.

Most people are Stealthy Scribblers, and they don’t even know it.

Writing by hand connects us to and expresses our humanity. Scribbling, in all its forms, is something only humanity possesses. Each stroke serves a purpose and a connection in uniquely human terms.

Capturing and expressing your thoughts, irrespective of your belief in their importance, is a superpower. These acts contain a stealthy system for solving problems and life’s daily mysteries.

You are responsible for learning how to wield this superpower responsibly and, if you want, with calculation and purpose.

The Stealthy Scribbler Society makes this possible.