The Secret of the Pencil

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.


21 thoughts on “The Secret of the Pencil

  1. 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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