Anchored by Words
How does one preserve so much that is true? How does one keep all the words, ideas, themes, convictions, images, and imaginations for a better life in a place of mind and heart where they can stick and change and bless?
I posted on Instagram recently that my “twenty minutes a day” is still going strong. A friend saw that post and asked to know more. I have been copying quotes in commonplace books for many years now. Copying quotes has become more than a hobby; it is one of my surest and quickest paths to peace in the midst of chaos and stress. It makes me feel stable and settled. I dive into the words and I breathe.
The way it works is simple: I set my watch timer for twenty minutes, and I copy quotes for the duration. Then I stop, mark my place, and do it again tomorrow. I keep up the “twenty minutes a day” routine for as long as needed until I’m caught up copying quotes from whatever book I recently read. I don’t copy from every book I read, but certain authors (Anne Lamott, Alexander McCall Smith, Gretchen Rubin) always get copied.
As the sticky note shows, I’ve spent six hours copying quotes from this Annie book so far. I have one more day to go to finish! These words are worth every minute to me.
Besides copying quotes in my commonplace books, here are some other ways my life revolves around words. I try to preserve the words so they can preserve me.
I copy words on sticky notes and leave them on my island or on the front cover of my planner or by my bed or on my kitchen cabinet.
I buy cards and put them in frames. I set out postcards I love.
I have signs made on Etsy for our quote wall.
I change the quote board by our kitchen table regularly.
I pick poems to memorize and take them on my walks/runs to practice. I love the way the paper gets soft with so much folding.
I put poems up in our play room for me and the kids to memorize together.
I post Scripture by my kitchen window so that as I chop, I can chew on words.
And we had a friend watercolor a favorite of my poems to hang right inside our front door. Every time I come home, I come home to words.
I could keep going, but I bet you would get tired of hearing me talk about my words before I would get tired of showing you. There are words all over my house and all over my heart. This is how I go through the world. But I still ponder not only how to collect the words, but how to let them make me new, break me open, wake me up, and change me. For now, I just keep standing in the words, anchored, blessed, and grateful.
From Mary Oliver’s poem “It Was Early.”