As I’m sitting on my recliner in a corner of my “writing hut,” I look across the room and notice a cup holder with various writing essentials on my desk. What stood out wasn’t the different amount of pens I had. It was the lonely #2 yellow pencil. How could that be?
I remember carrying a handful of #2 pencils in my school bag to write, draw, scribble, take exams with and erase any errors I would make. I would carve my initial on my pencils before monograms was in style. As an artist, I still find the look and idea of the classic yellow pencil appealing. Yet, there it was in plain sight. Only one pencil.
I walk across the room and grab a hold of this simple instrument. As I’m holding it, a magical feeling begins to happen. The pencil begins to reveal its secret and how it can leave a mark in our lives.
- We can create great things with a pencil, but without forgetting that there is a hand that guides our steps.
- From time to time, it is necessary to stop writing and use a marker, which generates suffering, but, in the end, the pencil is sharper.
- The pencil always allows us to use a rubber to erase what is wrong. Adjusting is not bad; it enables us to stay on the correct path.
- What matters in the pencil is not its wood, but the graphite that it has inside; so we must practice self-care.
- The pencil always leaves its mark. Therefore, it is essential to know the print we leave behind in life.
Loved this post. I’m a new follower. I blog about inanimate objects and their internal meaning, too.
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I enjoy reading your posts. Great imagination.
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Thank you so much. I really appreciate that you told me that.
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beautiful โคโค
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Thanks! ๐
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Wow. It leaves it’s mark. We all leave our mark. I really love this. Beautifully related. x
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Hopefully we’re remembered for the special being we are. ๐
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Perfect!!!!
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Beautiful Post! The pencil sure is a special instrument, often forgotten now …just like some precious parts of ourselves.
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Oh! beautifully said.
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Wonderful Post. Always feel safer with a pencil.
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Thank you Luda. ๐ป
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And the simplicity of the pencil is best. Recently, my husband and I went to an art show and there were these decorative pens. Since I enjoy writing, he thought I might like one. Actually, they were so pretty that I would be afraid to make a mistake and how would I erase the mistake? A memory of me presenting to my dad an elegant pen which I found in the old city of Jerusalem while working on a kibbutz in my early 20’s. He would just stare at the pen and never used it. I know he appreciated the beauty of the pen but he lost it moving to Nevada after my mom passed away. I am left wondering about the hard earned pen I haggled so eagerly for: I think I will write a story! Thanks for reminding me.
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What a wonderful memory you shared with us. It would be a delight to read more…and it started with the simple pencil. ๐ค
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Such a stunning post!
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Glad you like it Rebecca.
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Just superb
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Thank you!
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Wow! The way you connected the pencil to the life is really appreciable. Every point made total sense.
Take care. Live well.
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You made me smile. I owe it all to my imagination. ๐
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Oh. that’s my work actually. Thank you for smiling. ๐
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