The Little, Big Black Book

She had always had an affinity for libraries and books. Even the smell of the different kinds of paper within a notebook struck a particular chord with her. The thought of people's stories and experiences tucked away in between the pages waiting to be discovered intrigued her. It may have seemed like just a coincidence when Maya found the little black notebook on the bench that crisp October day in the park, but it was much more than that.

Maya had been having an especially rough day, which wasn't all that uncommon for her. She tended to feel more than most and would look to nature to ground her and from time-to-time would get wondrously lost in the beauty around her. While walking through the park to find some clarity, Maya came across a bench about a quarter-mile in, the same one that she would walk past every time she went to the park. Some days there would be flocks of people and an abundance of conversation; other days, there would be people reading the newspaper and crossword puzzle fanatics. Some days even a squirrel or two would jump up and take a seat while munching on some acorns. At times the characters in the park could get a little nutty.

This day hadn't seemed much different than others until she spotted the little black notebook. She was walking along the main path, watching leaves of all colors fall from the trees around her, and then she spotted it, resting ever so casually on the edge of the bench. Was someone in a hurry and ran off without it? Did someone have no use for it anymore and didn't want to take the time to put it in the trash conveniently located a mere couple of feet away? As she asked herself these questions in her head, she slowly made her way over to the bench, looking around to see if anyone was in the vicinity that could have left it behind.

With no one in sight, she picked up the notebook. She hesitated for a couple of seconds before opening it and then started flipping through the pages to see if there were any distinguishing entries. She had thought there must be a name somewhere within this notebook of who it belonged to, or at least a clue. After flipping through a couple of pages and with no content to be found, she came across a page slightly smaller than the rest. She flipped through the pages, comparing them carefully, wondering why and how this one page came to be. After a couple of passes back and forth, Maya got a glimpse of something on the page. After quickly passing by it, she slowly turned the pages back, one by one, until she got to the smaller piece of paper. There was a faint sketch of a three-dimensional cube; you know the kind you would draw in math class over and over again when you couldn't take listening to the teacher talk about Projective Geometry any longer?

She was sitting on the bench, completely captivated by this seemingly blank notebook with a page that now had a drawing on it. She placed her finger on the top of the page, slowly making her way down, tracing the edges of the cube. As her fingertip lingered over the top of the cube, she noticed a warping on the page. It looked as if the page indented like a ripple in the water. She quickly pulled her hand away from the page, looking at both the page itself and her finger a few times over. Thinking her mind was playing a trick on her, she placed her finger again, only this time her finger went through the page, into the notebook. She was terrified and amazed all at the same time. She looked around again to see if anyone could see what was happening, but no one was in sight.

She lifted her finger above the page, then placed it back on again, and in it went. With her left hand, she held the notebook open up above her eye line. She continued to remove her finger and then place it back, and to her surprise, all she saw was the back cover of the notebook. Although longer than the notebook's thickness, her finger appeared to have not made its way through. In disbelief, she placed the open notebook on the bench and looked ahead into the vastness of the park. After a few seconds and a quite expressive, curious look on her face, Maya turned to the notebook and took the plunge.

She started with her hand, followed by her arm, and then the rest of her body. She found herself inside the notebook, but it wasn't what she expected. Everything around her looked the same; she saw the park, the leaves, the bench, and the notebook. It was like time had been rewound and was playing back what had already happened. She made her way back over to the bench, picked up the notebook, and looked inside. This time she didn't find a smaller page or a drawing on any of the pages. She found a check for $20,000, signed by herself. Maya closed the notebook, held it with both hands, looked at it for a minute, and then brought it closer to her chest as she came to a realization. Every moment, of every day, she had been creating her reality. She chooses to give attention to certain things, and how she decides to perceive what she focuses on is what will be. She discovered that a notebook, an idea, and even a simple sketch could construct a world all her own. This new world presents opportunities to understand herself better and all of the things and the universe surrounding her.

The wind started to blow, the pages began to flip, and the notebook swung itself closed. The notebook remained situated on the bench in the park on 11th Street, and Maya was nowhere in sight. A young girl raced ahead of her mom, ran up to the bench, and picked up the notebook. With a look of excitement on her face, she turned back to her mom, held up the notebook, and started running toward her.

Who knows with what kind of wonder she will fill the pages? Whatever that may be, it will be up to her.