The Little Black Book

If found please return to Janice Elizabeth at 449 Triangle Circle, New York, NY, 55351

“I feel as though I’m a spirit experiencing life in human form”, I wrote in my little black book. “And as I experience life as a human, I become more and more anxious to discover the purpose of my human life”, I continued. “I’ve decided to journal some of the lessons that my human experience has taught me to accomplish the one goal that we all have in common; true happiness.” I closed my book and turned off my light. I layed there silently. Not many people are able to lay in a dark room alone with nothing but their thoughts, but I had become more in tune with my soul than my ego and this gave me peace of mind. My thoughts faded as I slowly drifted into slumber.

I woke up at eight o’clock the next morning to begin my day. Everything about my life at the time was average, but I was thankful for every moment. Not because I was content with where I was, but because I had learned at a very young age to be thankful in every stage of life. Experience taught me this lesson many times. Besides, if you’re not thankful for what you have rather it be a little or a lot, how do you expect to get more? I brushed my teeth and got dressed. While I was thankful, I knew that I wanted more for myself and for my life. I was a 24 year old waitress by day and bartender by night with dreams of becoming a nurse. Nursing school averaged about $15,000 in my local area and if I stuck to my budget, I would have saved enough in exactly 444 days. Aside from becoming a nurse, I had many big dreams. Big dreams scare some people, but for me dreams are where reality begins. If you can dream it in your mind, you can achieve it in real life, as long as your actions align with your desires.

I arrived at work around nine o’clock in the morning. Naturally, I began to make observations of each person that came in. As a waitress and a bartender, I encountered many different types of people on a daily basis. Some of them were friendly and outspoken, while others were quaint and quiet. There were also many regulars. These were the people who would come in every day around the same time and order the same thing off of the menu. I could tell that they found comfort in familiarity and routine. Behind all of my observations of people, there was a story and I often wondered what they were. I came to the conclusion that there was a formula to both success and happiness and I was determined to solve it. I continued working my day job as a waitress and ended at six o'clock pm. I then headed over to my second job. It was a bartending job at a restaurant just 2 blocks up the street. I began work at seven o’ clock pm and ended at twelve in the morning. I was tired by the end of my second shift, as anyone could imagine, but I was excited to head home to my studio apartment to write in my little black notebook. Upon arriving home, I put down my things and changed into my night clothes. I thought about how my days were too long, but not long enough and immediately knew what my first lesson in my pursuance to human happiness would be. I began writing.

“Time”, I wrote.

”Time doesn’t care about what you’re going through, it just keeps going.”, I continued writing.

Then I had a flashback of one of the customers who came into the restaurant where I was working earlier that day looking sad. When I asked him what was wrong, he spoke about how his day was ruined because he spilled coffee on his shirt in the morning and had to change. It made him late to work and work just felt exhausting from the moment he arrived until the time he left. He concluded his response with, “It was just a long day”. The past passed but in his mind, it was present. I couldn’t tell if he was living in the past or if the past was living in him. I continued writing.

“With only 24 hours in our day, why do we use our present moments being sad about something that’s already passed?”, I wrote. “ We can’t get that time back. I guess this is how the saying about life passing us by came about. But it’s not life who passes us by, it’s us who passes life by. Time is generous enough to give us a new minute every sixty seconds and a new hour every sixty minutes to start over and we use it sabotaging ourselves about something that’s already happened instead of moving forward with time and creating better moments for ourselves. I think that time and how productive we are with time could make a huge difference in the happiness of people. If we used our time more wisely, we could choose to cry less about things that’s already happened, to be intentional about learning from unfavorable circumstances, and to be in sync with the seconds that time gives to us. Time is so much more than a measurement of light and darkness, it is a measurement of every moment of our life. How will you choose to use yours?” I closed my Little Black Book and promised myself that going forward, I would use every moment to not just exist, but to live.

I arrived at work the next day and it was busy as I knew it would be on a Saturday morning. Things were fast paced until about four o’clock pm. My next customers were a mother and her daughter. The mother placed an order for a meal, but the daughter wasn’t hungry.

“You’ve barely eaten anything in three days!“, the mother exclaimed.

“I’m just not hungry”, the daughter replied.

“Sorry, she’s going through a breakup”, the mother said to me.

“It’s okay, I understand.” I said back to her.

The mother smiled at me. “Thank You”

I began thinking about how when your relationship ends with someone, it’s called a “break-up” as if when it’s over, you’re suddenly broken. Maybe if they called it a “fresh start” or a “do-over”, people would be less sad about it. I continued my shift. I didn’t have to work my night job so I was excited to head home after work and have the night to myself.

More time to myself meant more time to write. I continued documenting what I believed would bring humans closer to happiness. I thought about the girl from my job who had gone through a break-up and didn’t eat for three days. I began writing.

“Emotions”, I wrote. “They have the power to control our well-being, our thoughts, and even our actions, yet we were never taught to control them. Emotions enable us to build attachments to things and people who have free will and don’t belong to us. When someone decides that they want to leave us, our entire world comes crashing down when they never belonged to us in the first place. We try to control things beyond our control like how people feel about us or if an employer wants to hire us or how our day goes instead of going with the flow of life.Going against the grain makes things a lot more difficult. it's important to accept what it is and to know that there is an unlimited potential of what could be. It’s important to be free like a butterfly and to not act as if you’re a tree. Unlike a tree, you have the ability to leave. No pun intended.

“Choices.”, I wrote.

I thought about everyone I met on a daily basis and about how all of their lives were so different. Some seemed to be doing well, while others seemed to be defeated. What did they choose? Life always gives you two choices. You can conquer or you can be defeated. When something unfavorable happens, you can learn from it and understand that things happen for you and not to you; You can let it motivate you to be better and stronger. Or you can choose to let it define you. You can choose to suppress your situation or to address your situation. You can choose to look at the glass as half empty or to see it as half full. Whatever the circumstance is, you will always have a choice. And each choice that you make will play a major role in what happens next for your life. Each choice that is made has the potential to become a turning point in your story. Choices; we have more control than we think.

I completed my last passage in my little black notebook for the night.

“Time, emotions, and choices”, I wrote. “They are all connected”, I continued. “And when time, emotions, and choices are in sync, miracles happen.”

I arrived to work early the next day and began scoping out the customers so that I could get an idea of how busy I would be. I immediately noticed an elderly man sitting at a table by himself. He sat there with a blank stare and while I saw that he was there, he didn’t seem present. I walked up to him and said, “Hi, Is everything okay?” Those simple words made such a difference in his mood and I could tell that he had a lot to say so I sat down with him. “I’m dying”, he said. “And I have no one to even call to have lunch with me”, he continued. “You’re not dying, you’re living”, I replied. “And I would know, I’m looking right at you.” We both laughed. “The truth is we’re all dying”, I continued. “Tomorrow isn’t promised for any of us... But let’s just worry about death when we’re dead”, I said. The elderly man's mood changed completely and we continued to talk. I found out later on that his name was Fred and that he was eighty-six years old. I told him about how I was saving to go to nursing school and ironically we ended our conversation speaking about life. When he finished his meal, he thanked me and told me that he had felt more alive than before. He told me that my presence and words went a long way. We parted ways and I began work. My heart felt warm and I felt as though my purpose was fulfilled for the rest of the day.

Two weeks passed when one morning I arrived at work to have an envelope waiting for me. My manager told me that it was from my elderly friend and I immediately knew who it was from. I smiled as I opened the envelope. There was a card inside that read, “It turns out you were right, I am living. Thank You for your kindness. Here is something to help with nursing school.” I looked inside of the envelope and I was shocked to find a check for $20,000. I burst into tears of joy. Time, emotions, and choices.. they're all connected... And when they're in sync, miracles happen. It turns out that just as much as I had changed Fred’s life, he had changed mine... And I was so thankful.

I later arrived home and rushed over to my little black notebook. I grabbed a pen and began writing.

“Being human is weird….”, I wrote. “ But I like it.”