View Original Handwritten Notes
Hello beautiful page. How patiently you waited for me today. Not due to neglect have I not visited upon your pages, but only through trying to keep up with the day’s events and staying in motion.
But now evening draws in, and I feel it is high time to sit at desk and ponder, breathe, and let the pen out to play—and to scribe across the page and on top of the light blue college-ruled line.
Into my own world I begin to drift, loosening my grip and seeing that no muscle is being held too tightly and that there is regular and slow breath.
And that the hand continues its forward movement, and that my handwriting not only be legible but also beautiful. If I am taking the time to write in such a personal and graphic manner, it should be both readable and nice to look at.
Consistent and easy to make out, the constructions of words, from their syllabic letter constraints. And that is just the presentation—and no thought has even been made for topic or tone of direction, perhaps misdirection.
The misdirection of life’s minutiae. And other stories told by Harry P. Mouse.
Fare well Petey, Harry Peter Petey Mouse, or Mr. Mouse?
No, I don’t wish to write about fake mice, nor do I wish to review the day’s events. I don’t want to think of the future, of what will be or need being.
I only wish to be here now with my words and be at ease knowing what is to come has no meaning or matter, and nothing needed rests in the past.
You can keep moving. Be present. Be loose. Don’t be tense anywhere. Let go of all bodily tension, and for every control point, ensure there is a softness and tenderness.
Even in the angle of the pen and bend of the finger and movement of the arm in support of the wrist, all resting easily on edge of measured ease. Bringing and keeping that handwriting remain legible and consistent, keeping energy moving.
And when lost—or lost in thinking—come back again first to breath, and then loosen body, then ease the grip.
Ensure handwriting comes out flowing loosely and suggests uniformity and awareness. And yet, the feeling and speed should be a steady constant pushing—that if continued—can write its way through anything.
Until the writer is to perish, the pen continues across the page, undisturbed by outside forces.