It is
entirely possible that I am a ‘loser’ in this regard, but I suspect that there
actually many others like me who almost miss that annual pilgrimage to the
local stationery store to stock up on essentials, and a few novelty extras, at
the beginning of each school year. Anyone else care to fess up?
Now I look
back, a new pencil case was one of the few permissible outward manifestations
of personality when your daily attire was dictated by the uniform policy. Try as
we might in our teenage years, all other minor attempts at rebellion, like blue
mascara, glittery lip gloss, or even shoes with more than a 2.5cm heel were
swiftly quashed and supressed. In my school at least. But no one could lecture
you on your choice of pencil case, ring binder, and pens. These were fundamental
to successful learning – Boom. Result. Rebellion successful.
I’ve
actually still got some of my old pencil case relics (hands up - I’m a sentimental
hoarder). A purple and silver fluffy monstrosity which has recently been commandeered
by my daughter, a functional blue zippy cylinder to which I have ‘creatively’ added
Tippex eyes and a mouth around the aperture, and a black and white Barbara
Hepworth style one, when I was clearly attempting to demonstrate my cultured
nature and maturity…age 14 I suspect.
In my ‘stationery
past’ there were also ring binders, carefully collaged with pictures and quotes
cropped from the teen magazines of the day, now long since superceded and
irrelevant. They bear testament to the TV shows (Friends), the hunks (Leonardo
di Caprio, Brad Pitt and Tom Cruise), and the mantras like ‘no pain, no gain’ and ‘be true to yourself’ that mattered at
that period of my life. Of all of those, probably only the mantras remain
relevant, as even in those formative years it seems my attitude and outlook
were relatively consistent to now.
The reason
I’m excited about stationery is that it symbolises a common and necessary step
in any life challenge. Whenever the learning curve gets steep, progress towards
a solution requires research, paperwork and organisation. All of which mean new
stationery.
In my
current situation, my cancer diagnosis, (rather crudely delivered by phone
owing to my distance from the hospital where it all kicked off), is scrawled on
4 lime green post-its in purple pen. It was all I had to hand when I took that
call in my study, and now those key facts that disrupted my life: cancer, stage,
CT scan, chemo recommendation will be forever etched into my memory on neon
squares.
Since then there
have been forms to complete, appointment letters, stoma support books, clinical
trial papers, contact details, patient information leaflets and countless
brochures from the superlatively helpful people at Macmillan.
Until
yesterday I’ve been shoving it all in a heap on my desk, and dilly-dallying
over sorting it out. In my head, the messy pile (in which I can still find
everything, obviously), is probably the equivalent of burying my head in the
sand and delaying the onset of reality. This is also my general attitude to
post and mail, opened only on a reluctant, need-to-read basis…unless, of
course, it looks exciting or the envelope is handwritten.
Fortunately,
I’ve had a university mate up to stay this week. An amazing friend who pointed
out that I needed to get organised and whisked me off to the stationery store
of our time (not the ailing giant, the newer, trendy one – naming no names). She
treated me to pens, a diary, a ring binder and, of course, a new snazzy pencil
case. Lucky, lucky me.
Unicorn pencil case |
The pencil
case is amazing; my teen self would have loved it. Bright, sparkly and it has a
water-filled front with plastic unicorns, rainbows, flowers and stars that seem
to dance about in their fluid-filled home. Truly an emblem of optimism and joy,
if a frivolous one. I’m just having to hide it from my daughter as she’d have
it off me in seconds.
The upside
of this lovely trip is that I am now ‘getting organised.’ Taking that crucial
step that marks a transition point forwards. A first preparatory stepping stone
that forms the foundation for traversing any unchartered territory, taking on
any fight, and swatting-up mentally for any new experience. This approach is
how I’ve formerly dealt with acquiring and training a puppy (sadly not part of
my childhood experiences), preparing for pregnancy, labour and child-rearing, have
considered jobs and careers, planned parties and weddings…and now it will doubtless
serve me well for fighting cancer too.
Amen for
stationery, and for my friend that nudged me into realising how important ‘getting
organised’ is.
But whilst
writing this I’ve also been reminded of further memories, travelling in India
and working in East Africa. I remember being advised to give stationery, not
sweets (or money), to interested children...and adults, and so I took crayons,
biros and notepads rather than caramels, black jacks and nerds. These trifles
that I dispensed were received with great glee and appreciation, and I recall
cursing that I hadn’t brought more.
In the UK I
take stationery for granted. So much so that I’m ashamed to say the basic biro
has been banished from my house in favour of its rather more flamboyant cousin,
the gel pen. The boring wide-ruled notepad has been replaced by the
leather-bound journal complete with inspirational cover quote, as a jotter for
my daily thoughts.
Whilst I
have always, and will always, love ‘good’ stationery, I’m left with the
realisation that many people don’t have access to even the basic versions, and
these tools so crucial to education and learning, which are the real gateways
to opportunity and social mobility are sadly lacking in so much of the world.
No pressure
to act, but I’ve just take 5 mins to google this and whilst Pens for Kids are doubtless not the only
option, it looks like they might do what I’ve mentioned in the UK and abroad,
dispensing stationery to those that need it. It may mean one less stocking
present for my kids, but they’ll never know and it will have no impact on their
lives at all. On the flipside, for an unknown stranger or two my small donation
could mean the world. Worth a thought as we countdown to the season of giving?
For those
of you in big corporate jobs take a look at In kind direct. You all know how much stationery and equipment gets wasted as
logos change and technology moves on. Wish I’d known about this before.
Now I don’t
want my blog to get preachy, but sometimes when times are rough, thinking about
others who are worse off, who have needs and circumstances so much more
pressing and fundamental than mine, is a wonderful reminder of how lucky I
really am. It’s also a kick up the behind to provoke me to stay positive,
appreciate what I do have, and maybe to do a very little something for someone
else once in a while.
This doesn’t
mean I’m donating my unicorn pencil case I hasten to add, (am still too selfish
and whilst I’ve only had it a day or two I am now emotionally attached to it as
a mascot in my cancer fight). But it does mean I’ll be ordering some stationery
from Amazon and sending it to Pens for Kids. Thanks to my uni friend, I feel my
life and ‘fight’ is a little more organised and positive, so if I can help
someone else with that too, then I think I should.
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