Post-its surround me. Crumbled blue, pink, and yellow papers fill my room. Some of the little pieces of paper contain smudges of writing that are no longer legible, while others collect under the sole of my basketball shoes. My mirror has dry-erase scribbles of any quotes that I find worthy to dedicate an inch of space to. I believe in these little notes of mine.
There are days that I drag through. Sometimes, I just go through the motions and never really stop to appreciate anything. Every morning I dread brushing my teeth; it is boring and tedious. I stand and watch my ghostly expression in the mirror as my hand pulls back and forth lethargically. Then one of my colorful quotes catches my eye and wakes me. When I read these quotes, they make me stop and think. The notes on my mirror give me a motive and inspiration to live that day and to not take it for granted.
I recently cleaned my basketball shoes like any child would clean his room. I lifted the sole and a heap of all my little notes fell into my hand. The mashed up paper looked like one giant spit ball. I could not discern one letter on any of the pieces of paper, but I remembered all of the hopes and fears that they held for me. It is tradition, superstition, and peace of mind that makes me stick these little notes in my basketball shoes before a game. I believe the notes eliminate excuses of failure. That is all a superstition is: a way to eliminate excuses. Notes preserve my goals and ideas.
My scribbles keep my thoughts alive. Life lessons and homework assignments intrude my mind sporadically. The only way to remember them the next day is to quickly write them down on my hand or on an empty space on my notebook cover. Although this method of keeping up with my ideas is unorganized, it is my method, and I am comforted by knowing that.
My notes are personal and loving. My notes are harsh and demanding. My notes are full of curiosity and wonders. My notes are goals and promises. No matter how small and flimsy these little notes are, they are everywhere. Little notes are my comfort; they are my home. I believe little notes help to save me, even if it is just from missing an assignment or from forgetting a perfect rhythm of guitar chords.
If you enjoyed this essay, please consider making a tax-deductible contribution to This I Believe, Inc.