Some of the stationery I loved most was the stationery I used the least.
There were beautiful journals, like the ones from Paperblanks, with covers so lovely that I felt I couldn't possibly fill them with just anything. Limited-edition stickers I adored but couldn't decide where to put. A fountain pen that had cost quite a bit of money and that I was reluctant to take anywhere for fear of losing it. Or a beautiful leather journal cover I was worried about staining with ink or water. And then there were the rolls of washi tape, special papers, and all the other little treasures I'd collected over the years.
Of course, I used plenty of my stationery. But I also had a habit of taking things out, admiring them, thinking about what I might do with them, and then putting them carefully back in their place.
Maybe later. Maybe when I had something special in mind.
Looking back, I'm not even sure I knew what I was waiting for.
There was always a reason
If you love stationery as much as I do, you probably know how it goes.
You discover something beautiful from a favorite maker, perhaps a limited edition or something that's not particularly easy to find. You keep coming back to look at it, wonder whether you really need it, and eventually decide to treat yourself.
You're delighted when it finally arrives. But sometimes, the very things that made you want it so much are also what make you hesitate to use it.
For me, there were different reasons. Sometimes I'd spent quite a bit of money and wanted to take good care of what I'd bought. Other times, I simply enjoyed owning something beautiful, having it around, and looking at it.
Over the years, I filled my creative corners with lots of journals, papers, writing instruments, stickers, and all sorts of materials from different makers. I loved arranging everything, looking through my collection, and taking photographs of it. It was my little creative world, and it made me happy. It still does.
But while I loved being surrounded by all those beautiful things, I also realized how many of them were sitting on shelves or tucked away in drawers, waiting for their moment.
And I started wondering why.
What was I saving it for?
As I've grown older, I've found myself thinking more and more about this habit of saving things for later.
Because what exactly is later supposed to be?
For years, I thought certain journals deserved a special purpose. Maybe an important project, a wonderful trip, or something meaningful enough to fill their pages.
But who decides what's meaningful enough?
Why should the things I want to write, remember, draw, or create today be any less important than something I might experience five years from now?
And what if that special occasion never comes?
I can't point to one particular day when I suddenly changed my mind about all this. It was more of a gradual realization, something that came with time and with thinking about why I'd collected these things in the first place.
A little more use, a little less waiting
I still love my stationery just as much as I always have. The difference is that these days, I make a more conscious effort to actually enjoy using it.
I've found that it's a lot of fun to experiment a little more, trying different materials and following ideas. Along the way, I discover which products I genuinely enjoy using, what works well together, and what perhaps isn't quite right for me after all.
And I love how things change through use. Leather gets softer and develops its own patina. A favorite pen becomes wonderfully familiar in your hand. A journal slowly fills with thoughts, memories, little mistakes, and all the things that make it yours. That's the beauty of it.
Besides, if you're anything like me, you'll probably fall in love with another beautiful journal or fountain pen sooner or later anyway. Apparently, having several waiting on the shelf has never stopped me from discovering one more.
So why not use the ones we already have?
Some things are worth keeping
Now, I don't want this to sound as though I've stopped collecting things or believe that every beautiful piece of stationery absolutely has to be used.
Not at all.
I completely understand the pleasure of hunting down a rare item, finding that missing piece for a collection, or simply owning something from a brand you love. For some, collecting is the passion itself, and I think that's wonderful, too.
I still have things I think twice about before using. Some have a special meaning to me, and others would be incredibly difficult to replace. And sometimes I simply want to keep something exactly as it is.
I also know that beautiful stationery isn't always inexpensive. Not everyone can just go out and buy another fountain pen or replace a favorite journal. I know what it's like to think carefully about a purchase, save up for something, and want to make sure you don't waste your money.
But I've started asking myself a slightly different question when I find something sitting unused.
Am I keeping it because having and preserving it genuinely makes me happy?
Or am I afraid to use it because I might ruin something I've decided is too special?
Sometimes it's the first. Sometimes it's the second. But these days, I find myself hesitating less and enjoying more of what I already have.
A little more room for now
When I think about The Paper Voyager and what I hope it will become, this is something that matters a great deal to me.
I love discovering beautiful stationery, learning about the people who make it, and appreciating the thought and craftsmanship that go into it.
But I also love what happens when we actually sit down and use these things. When we write a letter to someone, fill a journal with memories from a journey, try a new ink, put together a collage, or simply spend an afternoon doing something creative because we enjoy it.
And I think I've come to understand something that I wish I'd realized a little earlier:
My thoughts don't have to be extraordinary to deserve a beautiful journal. My handwriting doesn't have to be perfect. I don't need an important occasion to reach for a favorite pen, and I don't have to create something worth showing anyone before I can enjoy using the materials I've chosen. The things I think about, the memories I want to keep, the ideas I want to explore, and the little creative projects I feel like trying are reason enough.
Perhaps there's something you've been saving for an occasion that feels special enough. Maybe you love keeping it exactly as it is. Or maybe you've started wondering whether you'd enjoy using it now.
Either way, it's entirely up to you.
And when I think about all the beautiful things I've saved for later over the years, I'm glad I've finally started making a little more room for now.
Tina
