Notes to Self
I’ve always enjoyed the idea of hidden messages. Secret compartments, hidden treasures, following clues to find things tucked away, these are fun places for the imagination to go.
Notes passed in class were always exciting. I don’t know about you, but the notes I wrote and received were always about something fun, never school-related, and they were folded in an overly intricate pattern. When you decided Yes or No and chose to Check This Box and pass it back without the teacher’s detection, the notes felt so clandestine.
When I worked in Minnesota, we had a bulletin board at the host station that was made of glued-together wine corks. Two corks side-by-side were loose, so my coworkers and I would leave notes behind them for the next person stuck with hosting duties. (The host was pretty much on an island all to themselves at the front of the restaurant. Hosting could be fun, but you had to make it fun.) Our notes were humorous and tended to poke fun at each other for getting stuck at the host station.
My Grandma left notes all over her house. Some were instructional, like the notes for turning the faucet off correctly. Others were more of a treasure hunt, notes in plain sight listing out where she put important papers. You could ask her about these notes but she’d just look at you and wink. Those of you who’ve been reading me for a [long] time might remember that my Dad once said that handwriting experts on crime shows would probably have a field day with Grandma’s notes. She wrote them in all capital letters and each word had its own underline. Regardless of any psychological intent, the notes were her way of reminding, announcing, and remembering.
And speaking of my Dad, when I was little, he would go to Hunting Camp about this time each year. And because my Dad’s a bit of a foodie, he was in charge of the week’s menu. He’d plan gourmet breakfasts, lunches, dinners, and snacks for everyone for the whole week and pack his truck with boxes of steaks, prepped foods, sauces, noodles, spices, and sometimes even his hunting gear. One year my sister and I made notes for him, silly messages that said Hi with a heart or a drawing we’d done in marker. All week long, the guys at Hunting Camp would call out, “Found another one!” and hand the notes to my Dad.
I’m thinking of all this lately and how a reminder at just the right time can make all the difference. It can have such an impact that I started wondering why we don’t leave messages for ourselves to find, messages with little bits of love and good thoughts. I mean, sure, maybe I’m being overly whimsical and maybe things could get cluttered if the notes were left all over… And it’s possible that someone other than us would find them. When I weigh those scenarios against the message of the notes, I think, so what? The notes my sister and I wrote to my Dad reminded him that we loved him, we were thinking of him, and that we were cheering him on at Hunting Camp. Why not remind ourselves with the things we need to hear? Imagine facing a tough room with a note in your pocket. Imagine entering a difficult room that now holds encouragement and love for you, written in the walls, as it were.
If you’re like me, you have a little tchotchke with a secret compartment just the right size for a note. Or you’ve got the bottom of a jewelry box or a certain kitchen drawer.
You’ve got a place—or places—for notes to yourself. As for what you put on these notes, well… In those rare moments when you turn off the noise in your life, close your eyes and look inward, and you’ll know exactly what it is you need to hear. These are the words that remind you who you are and why cheering you on is never a waste of time. You might rediscover one of your reminders just when you need it the most. Or maybe you’ll leave nothing to chance and visit your notes on purpose so you remember what’s really important.
Fill your life with kind pep talks. Put them wherever you might need them. If you feel too silly, ease your way in with a note on faucet instructions first. And if anyone asks you what you’re doing, just wink.
