Blank Slates

I have a confession to make. I love brand new notebooks.

The first time I open one, when it’s still fresh and the pages are empty, it’s almost like going on a little adventure. I can write anything I want, set the tone and mood of the whole notebook with the first few page. It’s a blank slate, just waiting to be filled up with words and pictures and ideas.

I can sit there for hours and ponder what to write. What magic lives among these soft, smooth pages? What happens next? Where do we go from here?

I think, sometimes, we don’t allow ourselves these blank slates. Everything comes with baggage, with past experiences and hopes and fears. We don’t give ourselves a chance to put things aside and let loose. Maybe that’s all right for some, but not for me.

I need the blankness, to see with eyes unclouded.