That’s a fun question: Are you a collector of anything? It’s fun to also talk about, the things we collect, as we pass our days. But I think there is a more important question that often won’t get asked but that becomes the most revealing about a person:
Why do you collect the things you do?
If you don’t collect things, if you don’t consider yourself a collector, I suggest you dig deeper. Because I believe we all collect things; I believe we all are collectors. But this means we need to broaden that definition. Not all things that get collected, that claim us, are things you can hold with your hands.
Some things, the most precious of things, are the ones held in the heart—in the soul.
So, again:
“Are YOU a collector of anything?”
Of course you are—but why?
My Collections:
I am a collector. But not an obsessive one (at least as I define myself). Growing up, I didn’t really collect anything of note—not stamps or baseball cards or comics or coins. Likely because there was no one of influence in my life who, themselves, explicitly collected things. As can be said with so much, we adopt things into our own lives because we see them modeled for us by others, especially our elders. Over those years, I tried to collect a few things (e.g. shells from the rare trips to the ocean, insects that I tried to preserve and pin) but “the bug” (see what I did there?) never took firm hold. I never caught the virus of a serious and dedicated collector.
My collecting now is not a formal hobby—my compulsion is more random and flexible and much less strategic or obsessive. For example:
I collect books. But not really.
Maybe it’s more accurate to say “books collect me.” It’s actually most accurate to say after I’ve read a book, I just don’t get rid of it. I can’t!
A couple years ago, I was in a mood to “get rid of” all my books—a dramatic act, I know, in my never-ending striving to live a life of simplicity and minimalism.
When I shared that idea with Kristin, her immediate response was:
“ARE YOU CRAZY?!? I’m not gonna let you do that.”
She knows I love books. She was right. What the hell was I thinking?
I got rid of no books. I’m just adding more.
A more serious book collector may hunt for rare or first editions, signed copies, or all the books by a certain author or on a certain theme or subject. And they may not even read many of the books they collect. I have done none of that even though I do have a few first editions, signed copies, and series of books from the same author. And I do have a growing set of biographies of US presidents—especially bios of Lincoln which includes the six volume Sangamon set by Carl Sandburg. And I’ve read most every book in my collection—even as I say my To Be Read shelf continues to grow exponentially.
I still have the very first TWO books I ever purchased with my own money when I was in middle school at East Valley: both biographies.
Lately, I’ve become a bit of a collector of stones too—stones that I make into cairns. Free-standing cairns that I build, rebuild, and place in various places in and around my life (both inside my house, and outside). Cairns are going to be the subject of an upcoming post all to themselves so I’ll let them rest for a bit.
But here’s why I wrote about collections today:
For quite a number of years now, perhaps going on a fourth decade (when the heck did THAT happen?), I’ve been a collector of quotes. As a lover of words and language, when a “turn of phrase” captures my attention, from an author in a book, from a line in a movie or TV show, or from a conversation with a friend, I tend to memorialize them—keep them in a place near and dear, and not just my heart. “If you don’t write it down, it didn’t happen” is so true. Before I commit to memory anything worth storing in my brain (e.g. The Gettysburg Address, the Lord’s Prayer, the Serenity Prayer, a Shakespearean soliloquy, a John O’Donohue poem or blessing, etc.), I know I have to write it down, else I’ll lose it. And kick myself later for having allowed that.
So, the formal place I keep for THIS collection is my current Common Book. I do keep a journal, though again, not obsessively. I have a number of journals I’ve kept since around the time when I left college. I never kept a journal growing up—I can safely say I never was much of a reader or lover of language growing up (again, because I didn’t have those models in my life.) And I cannot quite pin down when or why I caught the “lover of language” bug—but my goodness, have I! Words and language have claimed me fully—and if anything is meant to claim you, words and books and language and poetry are not such bad things to allow into your life—unless they are intended to hurt, in which case, I let go of those.
Whomever wrote “Sticks and stone may break my bones but words will never hurt me” lied. I don’t know why they lied, but they lied. Words can hurt, words can be dangerous (it’s actually more accurate to say “words can be ‘intended’ to hurt and be dangerous”—they still have to land on ears that allow the intention to land too, if you know what I mean. I hope you know what I mean.). As I taught many a student in my day, “if someone flings a word at you with the intention of hurting you, just let it go. Better, don’t catch it in the first place. It’s hard, I know. But you can do this—not catch words that are meant to hurt you. THOSE words are the sad reflection of the person who flung them. Always. You NEVER need catch them, let alone hold on to them. Even when, heaven forbid, the words come from inside you own mind. That happens too—and you can let go of those as well.
Oh, and…
…words can also heal.
My Common Book is not a journal—its purpose is for a thing completely different. It’s where I keep a prized and priceless collection.
My Common Book is never far from me. If I go on a trip, along with the multiple books I pack, this also goes with me. No, I can’t and won’t succumb to a digital version—for the same reason I cannot read eBooks, even though I tried. There is somewhere in this house an early version of a Kindle that is gathering dust (or accruing value as a soon-to-be antique! Can you say “grandchild’s college fund” anyone?).
If I’m out and about and a phrase or quote of note enters my consciousness, I tend to look quickly for something to jot it down for inclusion later into my Common Book. Post-its, napkins, a gum wrapper or three, recycled paper, in my day-planner, on my palm (okay, yes, even in a note on my iPhone!)—all are “jot on-able” spaces. But I love, LOVE, the act of writing on paper the quotes that deserve to stay with me—and when I have the ink for it, I love using a lovely fountain pen to write with; that solemnizes the act to a greater degree, helping me to “approach that moment with reverence.” I also note the day in which the quote entered my life—it’s proving to be a lovely and reverent way to reflect upon the various periods of my life and what, at that time, was important to me. Because, the truth is, there are things, words, that happen every single day that COULD be noted, captured, and written down, but aren’t. For whatever reason, most things heard that likely should be noted, don’t get noted. Which makes it all the more awesome and meaningful and precious all those words and phrases that do.
Case in point:
Those open pages there? In my Common Book pictured above? I just randomly opened it. The pages shown are from days a year ago now, during April 2023 (the month in which we memorialized dad and inurned his ashes).
Here’s that collection—that priceless collection—from those pages:
“My life is my message.” (Gandhi)
“I didn’t go to see the great Rabbi to hear the Torah, I went to him to watch him tie his shoes.” (Ram Dass)
“My life, my entire life, is my path.” (Ram Dass)
“In creating a place of honor for every issue, for every experience, we create a different form of power that is rooted in the whole truth of who we are.” (Ai-Jun Po)
“The things of this life don’t happen to you, they happen for you.” (Various mentors)
“The freedom to choose graciousness is a freedom no one can take from us.” (John O’Donohue)
“If we befriend the mystery of the soul, we sense the secret depths to our life.” (John O’Donohue)
“It is beauty that magnetizes the contemplative, and it is the duty of the contemplative to give beauty away so that the rest of the world may, in the midst of squalor, ugliness, and pain, remember that beauty is possible.” (Joan Chittister).
“It takes only one heart to start the whole chain.” (Ram Dass)
“Make your interests gradually wider and more impersonal, until bit by bit the walls of the eqo recede, and your life becomes increasingly merged with the universal life.” (Bertrand Russell)
“For small creatures such as we, the vastness [of space] is bearable only through love.” (Carl Sagan)
“With gratitude, optimism is sustainable.” (Michael J. Fox)
There be “golden” Alchemy in them there hills—er, pages!
Words, these words as I trust you can see, have been alchemized within my being. I have metabolized each in various ways so that they have become a part of me. They are ingredients I’ve cooked into my life, and they have changed me. Language and words MATTER. Never let anyone tell you differently. Words have energy, words have power. And they can change you—they can change the world.
And, yes, they are worth collecting.
So, again, are YOU a collector?
Of course you are. Look in the places that matter for the things that have claimed you. THAT is your priceless collection.
And, also again, why have you collected those things? Maybe it’s time to dust them off and look at them anew.
And when it comes to words, I do believe all humans keep their own private collections. What words have been inscribed upon your heart that have changed you? And why? Is it time now to attend and care more mindfully, more heart-fully, to your own unique and priceless collection?
Collections like those should never gather dust. May yours never.
Live, Laugh, Love,
~ k
🙏🏼
Always and Ubuntu
Postscipt:
A number of months ago now, when Kristin and I began the Netflix mini-docuseries “Emergency NYC,” (btw, HIGHLY recommend!—but watch “Lenox Hill” first!), near the end of episode two, the following two sentences captured me. Fortunately, you can rewind these shows now, otherwise, these words would have been in jeopardy of slipping past me—what would have been to my later chagrin.
“People deserve you. People deserve someone who wants to give their best.”
~ from a SkyHealth medic
These, now too, are nestled safely as one of the entries in my Common Book—entered August 31, 2023.
What a wonderful way to BE in this world; as someone who wants to give their best. And better, as someone whom someone else deserves. Do you know who in this world deserves you? What a gift it is to learn who that person might be. And may you bring them you best.
THAT’s Alchemy on a whole ‘nother level.
I started collecting classical vinyl albums in 2021. Bought a couple very large lots which came with many other genres so I've been selling those off on eBay. I'm done collecting and just enjoying now. That was a hard addiction to stop but all the cleaning, sorting and organizing was calming for my anxiety... until I had too many! 😁 I love your idea of the Common Book! I have my favorites all mixed throughout my journals, saved on my computer or on scraps of paper. Having them all in one place and being able to open up to a random page would be wonderful for inspiration. Thank you for that 💜🌿
Love this! I collect moments. Thank you for the reminder to slow down and be present so I can keep collecting. Getting the duster out now! Oxox