The unoriginal but amazing life

I bought a notebook this morning.

More specifically, a black, softcover Moleskine 2012 Weekly Notebook Diary/Planner. Because in church work, you need to have a January calendar at the ready by the time November hits.

It is my first Moleskine, and kudos to them for having created a brand that carries with it such a particular mystique that it actually seems like an important detail in my life to say "it is my first Moleskine," as if that really means something.

A little baffled and enticed by the sheets of icon stickers in the back pocket, I ventured to the web to see how others had used these stickers...and found no useful pictures or suggestions (not that there is a right or wrong way to use them, but I was curious). But I did end up pouring over blog posts about the creative ways that people use or modify their Moleskines, extensive discussion of the best Moleskine pen (turns out it is the very pen that I am already using!), and glimpses of fascinating people who read many books or drink many wines or travel many places, and then have the patience and inspiration to write about those experiences.

I don't read enough books these days to warrant a book journal, and I would probably have no patience to keep up with it anyway. I don't drink nearly enough wine, nor do I care deeply enough about it, to have any interest in keeping a wine journal (and for as much as I love food and cooking, I'm not sure that a restaurant or food journal would be exactly the right thing for me either).

But travel? I don't do much of it, but I would love to do more. I feel the pull of city-based Moleskines, that include public transportation maps and give you space to write about all the things in a city that you've seen, done, tasted, and experienced.

Or how about a plain old ruled notebook...that could accompany me on travels all across the world? I kept a serious journal during our Tanzania travels. I wrote down all the details I could remember about our days, as well as keeping lists of the food we ate, the animals we saw, and the Swahili we learned. I used that notebook to keep score as we played cards on our flights, I pressed flowers in between its pages, and I saved beer bottle labels in its back pocket.

And so, at this moment, as I stare outside at the gray Chicago sky, I find myself desiring the unoriginal but amazing lives of so many of my fellow young adults: lives filled with travels and journals, laptops and good coffee, a spirit of both exploration and appreciation.

And all because I needed to buy a day planner.

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