I love all things analog: physical books and magazines, fountain pens, Moleskine notebooks, Tomoe River paper, Hobonichi and Kokuyo Jibun Techo, sticky notes, annotations, note cards, and stationery paper. However, I dislike the clutter that they can bring when you love something too much. I made the decision to switch back to digital on many things. I go back and forth constantly on this. I prefer paper, but I also prefer the efficiency of digital options that take up little space.

I’ve found a sweet spot, and it seems to be working for the moment. I am a first-year teacher, and school is coming to an end in my community. I suppose there’s been a lot of buildup within me that managed to spill out this past week. I was upset. I was angry. I was trying my best not to break down in front of students. I talked to one of the school counselors and let loose. I felt better, but it was short relief. When I went home that night, I went to sleep, knowing sleep is a great stress reducer. However, I woke up around 1 a.m. and couldn’t go back to sleep.

I know the tricks for lulling yourself back to sleep: avoid electronics, don’t turn on bright lights, and don’t stay in bed if you aren’t going back to sleep. I panicked because I had decluttered my analog things that I could turn to during times like these. However, in my stressed and sleepless state, I recalled that I kept a small number of Moleskine and Hobonichi notebooks, my fountain pens, and their inks.

I reached for the Moleskine cahier journal that I used over winter break, seeing that I last used it on March 13. I wrote down the ugly thoughts I was having, but I also paired them with positive thoughts. I mentioned that I was authentically hurt by student comments regarding an activity I created that I hoped they would enjoy; I balanced it out by saying many students enjoyed the activity, and I recalled their laughter and wild applause. I wrote that teaching middle school was tough, but that I overall enjoyed teaching and my students. I continued to write until my brain was empty. Soon after finishing my writing, I went to sleep.

The next day, I made the decision to channel those negative feelings into positive actions. I had students write thank-you letters to teachers and other staff, but I also planned to write my own thank-you notes. Once again, my decision to make an exception for my analog preference saved the day when I pulled out an abundance of note cards and stationery paper with their matching envelopes. I had bought them because I thought they were beautiful and hoped to have a reason to use them. For a while, I didn’t.

At some point, I decided to take the stationery to work. That decision turned out to be the correct one because last month, I used a card and envelope to write a quick note of appreciation to my admin, who was hard at work dealing with testing. She later told me that she really appreciated the card and really needed to see it. That made me happy.

So yesterday, I pulled out some cards, and while on hall duty, I began writing notes to teachers, admin, and staff who made my first year. While I was still reeling from some feelings of frustration and disappointment, the more I wrote, the better I felt. When I read student letters to separate them to be able to give them to the correct person, I laughed and giggled, smiled, and teared up at the sincerity of the notes.

One particular letter touched me. This particular student, whom I’ll call Mark, probably drove his teacher up the wall with his antics. Mark frequently mentioned how much he didn’t like this teacher, and he showed it through some rather juvenile, frustrating actions. I had previously tried to talk to the student, trying to get behind his motivations for treating the teacher so disrespectfully.

Over time, his behavior improved in the class, but he still seemed to hold some negative feelings toward the teacher. So yesterday, when Mark asked who he should write the letter to, I said he should write a letter to that particular teacher. The letter was short, but it was one of my favorites. There was a lot of gratitude and acknowledgment that the teacher was trying his best with Mark. The teacher, Mark had written, was a father figure to him. I wanted to immediately give the letter to the teacher, but I knew he had other letters from students, so I didn’t. However, I was pleased.

Later that day, the counselor followed up with me, and I mentioned I had decided to focus on gratitude and that ended my week on a positive high.

I’m sure I could have figured out some way to show gratitude in a digital way, but to be honest, nothing beats a handwritten letter or note. I’m also grateful to my past self for recognizing the importance of analog in my life. Most importantly, it’s acknowledging the balance of appreciating the analog things I like without constantly acquiring them. I don’t need a dozen pens, notebooks, cards. I can keep a few well-selected stationery items that I use on hand and that serve a purpose. I also don’t need to get rid of everything, and that small stack of note cards is good to have for those “just in case” quick notes of appreciation.

In an age where digital technology has intertwined so deeply in our lives, it’s sometimes easy to forget the sheer joy and authenticity that can be felt through something as simple as a handwritten note. My experience taught me that while the digital world is efficient and often necessary, there’s an incomparable warmth and soul in the tactile nature of analog items – in the glide of a fountain pen on paper, and the texture of a heartfelt note card.

Analog, in its essence, can sometimes create a bridge, a more human link that sometimes gets lost in the pixels. It makes us pause, reflect, and cherish the moments more deeply. It’s a reminder that in this fast-paced world, taking the time for a thoughtful gesture can have a ripple effect in someone’s day or life.

As life keeps moving, I’ll continue to embrace the careful balance between the analog and digital aspects of my existence. And as for the clutter – well, sometimes, a little clutter is just the remnants of the love and care we put into the world. That’s something I need to accept.

When life is moving too fast or you find yourself stressed, confused, or overwhelmed, take a step back and write a letter, pen a thank-you note, or jot down your thoughts in a notebook. You might just find that these small acts of connecting in a more tangible way will not only declutter your mind but will also add a richness to your life that you never knew you needed.

So, to the old and the new, the analog and the digital – here’s to finding the balance that brings the best of both worlds into our lives.