The Journey

A haphazard stack of poetry sits on the corner of my desk as I contemplate what to do to keep them all in one place. Even as I think this, the restless little tabby cat jumps up and knocks a sheet or two onto the floor. He looks lazily at the wrinkled sheets floating through the dusty air and seems amused as they land with a rustle onto the wooden floor. A look of complete and utter boredom rests on his whiskery face as he walks the narrow runway over to where I sit. "Entertain me!" he seems to demand as he meows a squeaky little cry. I pick up the missing poetry off the floor as I give him a scratch under his furry little chin.

The second sheet of poetry catches my eye as I reach out and pick it up off the wood planked floor. I remember every moment each poem was written and this one was bred during a very dark time in life. If I may be so bold, writing poetry is something that I was already good at. In fact, it was even incorporated into therapy. However, now that the therapy is over, how does one keep a progressive record of such poetry so as to not lose any? That is the quandary I face now. As I think about these things, I realize that a pair of well-worn orange handled Fiskars is about to fall under the hands, or rather the paws, of a wayward tabby.

I grab the big pair of Fiskars from the edge of the table, saving them from certain destruction and torment of the little rascal and made my way to the basket and put them away. It was then that I saw an extra composition notebook, different kinds of glues and several types of embellishments. My mind goes into overdrive as the irritable tabby gives up on capturing my attention. After all, who (or what) can distract me when I'm in the zone - the "creating my happiness" zone?

I make a mental list of needed supplies and make a trip to the local department store. Incredible! I find myself getting totally distracted and immersed in all the available craft supplies, especially the different types of Fiskars. It has definitely been a while since I have been shopping for different supplies. I did not realize that there was even a Fiskars brand rotary cutter. But alas, although I did grab a small pair of fabric Fiskars scissors, I do not need a new rotary cutter for this particular project. Maybe next time I promise myself. Anxious to get started, I go through my mental checklist as I make headway down the aisle to get the supplies. Soon enough I am reaching for my much loved and well used Fiskars while getting lost in the design for my new happiness.

Anytime I use my orange-handled Fiskars, I am lost in my creativity. I believe that this particular project is going to by my new go-to happiness. Trouble is, I cannot believe that it took this long for me to figure it out. After all, as a social worker myself, using composition notebooks with others in their own journey has been widely used and very well received. Of course, until now, I had never thought to use my readily available Fiskars to help decorate the outside of these notebooks in order to make them unique and very much my own. A new creation happiness has been found in using Fiskars and as many of the Fiskars products as possible when making decorated journals for my poetry.