Letting the Ink Dry
Have you ever found yourself on a rampage of saying the wrong thing? A day, or even a week-long string rubbing those around you the wrong way with your words? Sometimes, the things we say can be misinterpreted. Other times, we say what we feel at that moment, but it’s hurtful or inappropriate—and we may even try to convince ourselves or others that we misspoke or were misunderstood. Dishonesty is no way to fix hurt feelings; once something is said, it can never truly be taken back. Of course, much damage can be repaired with consistent action, but an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure.
I have found a simple mental exercise that will help significantly when the mouth works fast and we can’t find the brakes. It came by way of an inky mess.
When one of my daughters was five, she wanted a “feather pen.” I assume she saw a movie depicting a time when the writing technology consisted of dipping a quill in a bottle of ink.
This seemed like fun, so we gifted her a kit, including some fancy paper, envelopes, a horrible quill with a metal tip, and a bottle of black ink specially designed to stain fingers and last for days. It was a mess. Now, I suspected that a five-year-old with a bottle of ink might have some side effects apart from a written letter, but the feather did not write well.
She had been so excited. I knew nothing of fountain pens aside from a loose awareness of their existence. I dove into the subject and discovered an unknown subculture.
I was happy to learn of cartridges for fountain pens, meaning no spills or dealing with ink. My daughter was excited to get a green pen with Irish Green ink. This led to a fun and ongoing homeschool project. We wrote letters on blank stationery and put them in envelopes adorned with wax seals. She felt like she was in the world of Harry Potter.
Something as simple as a favorite color of ink and creating a message for a friend can make learning to write fun.
Our letter-writing sessions led to me acquiring a fountain pen of my own. Mine does not take cartridges. I had my own fun picking out attractive bottles of ink.
I still write middle-grade novels on a laptop but journal with my fountain pen. This daily ritual led me to think about writers at a time when this was the only option.
Writing with a fountain pen has its own pace and, with it, a mentality. The ink takes a moment to dry. A little care must be taken not to smear the page. Another factor that slows writing is how the pen itself works. The ink is gravity-fed. Scribbling quickly can lead to a pause in the ink coming out. One way or another, you’re going to slow down.
One day, while journaling, I imagined writing a novel with only a fountain pen. I wondered how the slowed pace would affect my writing style. I would have time to think about sentence structure, meaning, content, and how everything fits together while writing. I considered authors hundreds of years ago purchasing quality paper and ink. The expense would be another reason to pause and consider word choice before putting pen to paper.
By contrast, I can type on my laptop much faster in an attempt to catch up with the speed of my thoughts. I don’t even have to pause to acknowledge a misspelled word. The computer takes care of that. Reflection happens later. This is called the editing process. There is no editing process when we speak to the people in our lives.
Sometimes, I can speak to people as if writing on a laptop. The words come as quickly as the feelings and thoughts that create them. When I feel I didn’t mean what I said, this may be true because I never gave myself a moment to consider my meaning before the words came out. But other people remember those words even if I didn’t mean them. I think it’s important to let the ink dry on a statement before rushing to follow it up.
Imagine living a few centuries ago. Writing a letter would take time. It would be crafted. The slowed writing process would give weight to the words and allow time to choose the right ones.
This is the mentality I wish to have when speaking to others. I choose to take a fountain pen approach when I talk. There is no reason my words need to come at the same speed as my thoughts. Technological advances that allow us to communicate faster are beneficial in connecting people and ideas in real-time worldwide. So much benefit comes from this. This does not mean I must take full advantage of the available speed in my words, either spoken or in a text.
As I take my time crafting each sentence in conversation as if I am writing a letter with pen and ink, the few extra seconds I gain are plenty to understand better how the person I’m talking to may be feeling. I also become aware of my feelings and discover more about what I may think. Pauses in conversation are becoming lost. Where are the commas, semicolons, and periods in our speech? They have been replaced with “um, like, and soooo.” Pausing may make us uncomfortable initially, but it allows the person we speak with to process what is being said. We have developed a need to talk at the speed we are able rather than the pace it takes to choose our words to match our true intent.
Our words are like wet ink on the page. Take a moment to let the ink dry before writing the next line, or risk smearing all that came before. Craft each sentence as if it’s being written in permanent ink that cannot be erased. In life, as we forge relationships with others, this is the case. There is no delete key for our spoken words. We must go forward in the story.