The Treasure Within

The best gift I ever received was a notebook. It was my last day of school and I was awarded with perfect attendance and straight A’s. My parents were so damn proud but to be honest I was humiliated. I did not have many friends and spent most of my time in class alone. Teachers loved me because I followed the rules and never acted out. The other kids didn’t talk to me because I sat quietly and gave the impression I didn’t want to talk.

The awards ceremony lasted a few hours and I was the only student in junior high to win perfect attendance. It made me sick to my stomach walking up to the podium to receive my award. All eyes were on me. And for being a nerd no less.

When my mom picked me up that day I begged her to let me skip at least one day next year so I didn’t need to endure that embarrassment again. She laughed and told me to be proud myself and who I am. For a moment I wished I could be someone else.

We went straight to her best friends boutique and she told me I could pick out anything I wanted to celebrate my good grades. They encouraged me to get a new dress or some jewelry but when I walked in I saw a notebook set I couldn’t get off my mind. The cover was a beautiful matte black and the fore edge shimmered gold. It came with stencils and gel pens in every color. Now this I absolutely needed. It was enough to make my perfect attendance suddenly worth it.

Each day that summer I sat in the warm crisp air jotting away. I wrote stories based on my classmates, the animals that lived near our house, and my family. I felt alive in a way I never had before. My skin turned sun kissed and my mom fixed me up a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and sliced apples every afternoon. I no longer wanted to do anything other than write in my book.

Sitting outside writing made me feel perfectly content in my lonesome. While my brother and the other kids ran around town playing tag and selling lemonade I created adventures, practiced script, and wrote about my inner most desires. My parents often said I would become a NY Times best selling author when I grew up. That filled me with such pride.

After starting high school my interest in writing seemed to fall to the wayside. My priorities shifted from imagination and fairytales to the art of being a teenager. I grew into myself and with that came a new level of confidence. Making friends had become easy. Days were suddenly filled with soccer practice, hangouts, and sleepovers. I was too focused on my social life and although that’s a fun part of being a teenager I began to lose myself.

The years went by and I grew further and further from my true self. After a decade full of growing pains, friends who came in and out of my life, and failing to find a job that satisfied my soul I was feeling more lost and confused than ever. I had spent so long trying to ‘make it’ according to what I thought I was supposed to do that I completely forgot about my passions and what truly made me happy.

On a rainy spring day I was taking a walk through the park near my apartment. The park was normally filled with the sound of dogs barking, friends chatting, and music in the distance. Today however there was not a soul in sight. I always found it funny how the rain seemed to scare everyone away. As if as humans we are not waterproof, and need to stay inside at the slightest sight of a drizzle.

It had been a long week and I needed to unwind. I was trying to enjoy the walk but my mind would not quiet down. The rain started getting heavier and I debated cutting my walk short. I noticed as the rain got heavier my mind magically started feeling lighter. I sat on a bench and started to sob. I did not know why I was crying but it felt good to let it out and release the emotions. The rain has always had a way of soothing my soul. Five minutes turned to ten and then fifteen. I am not sure how long I sat there but when I stood up I felt revived.

The rain cleared up and the clouds stretched apart revealing a beautiful rainbow. Two squirrels in the distance were running back and forth-chasing each other and quickly ran up a tree. At the base of the tree I noticed an object. It sparked interest so I walked closer to check it out. It was a little black book neatly perched against the rigid trunk. The book looked intentionally placed in a way that kept it safe from the rain. As I reached toward it there was something so similar in its essence to the one I had as a kid. Memories that had been forgotten flooded to the surface and I felt nostalgia, happiness, and love. I held the book and wondered if I should open it, oddly expecting the pages to be filled with my old stories.

I flipped through the pages and on the front page said, ‘Who would you be if you knew you couldn’t fail?’ Chills ran through my body and my heart beat fast. I’ve noticed that in life quotes meet you where you are. You could read or hear a saying many times but after having the right recipe of life experiences it just hits differently. Today was that day. The question pulsed through my soul.

It suddenly became clear to me that I live my life playing it safe. My inability to let loose at has left me uptight and unfulfilled. I only did the things I knew I would be good at, never letting myself play or create for the fun of it. I’ve become a little perfectionist without even realizing. These thoughts were not comfortable but it was time to confront them.

I ran home, made a bath, and sat in silence to reconnect with myself. It was time to take responsibility for the current state of my life and what was not making me happy. I needed to take initiative and do something that will make me feel. If I was too afraid to dream big and reach for the stars how would I ever find true bliss? It was time to take a chance on me. It is too risky not to.

With quiet reflection came a wave of happiness through the memory of creating stories as a kid. Sitting out in nature all day long, feeling the breeze and the sun, writing stories. Those were the days I look back on with magical lenses, the days that mixed into one, the days I felt so alive. I got out of the bath and decided to write again. I would not do it for an audience, for praise, or for money. I would do it for me.

I searched the apartment for my favorite pen, opened the little black book, and stared at the empty pages in front of me. Forty-five minutes later I was still staring at blank pages. I let out a scream of frustration and sat in silence. I reminded myself that there was no pressure. I paced around the kitchen to move my body, shook my body, grabbed a snack, and then the magic started.

The next seven hours flew by. I looked at my clock and saw that it was 2:45 am. The black book was completely filled out with a story about a man named Marty who spent years searching for a treasure. He was made fun of by his friends and family who did not understand or support his mission. He lived with a lot of shame and isolation in pursuit of his dreams. After almost giving up his parents, who never accepted his choices, encouraged him to keep going. That’s when he found the missing piece to the puzzle and was finally able to find the treasure.

I was proud of my work and although I was physically exhausted from writing for so long I was more mentally awake than I’d been in a long time. From that day forward I committed to write a minimum of thirty minutes every day. Some days I journaled and some days I wrote fiction. Sometimes it felt good and other times it was the last thing I wanted to do. Each day I felt thankful to be on the path of something that mattered to me. Each day I took another step closer to my goals. Each day the writing helped make me feel alive.

Eight months after finding that black notebook I was scrolling on Instagram and saw an ad for a book competition. My jaw dropped. ‘Write a story about a treasure discovery and win $20,000!’ As I read the terms and conditions I could not believe the synchronicities. You can’t make this stuff up. The story needed to be handwritten, in a little black book, and mailed out no later than tomorrow. The story I wrote in the black book that started all of this magic was hand written, about a treasure discovery, and ready to be mailed out immediately! I’m not one to believe in coincidences and this was too good to be a coincidence. Everything lined up too perfectly. I ran home, got my book, and mailed it out. Although I really wanted to win it was not the focus of my attention. I was proud of myself and of my development over that last few months. No matter what this was a sign I was on the right path. Truthfully, I felt like the biggest winner in the world.

Lo and behold a few weeks later I got the best-handwritten letter. I WON!

So what did I do with the money?

Winning that competition really gave me an extra boost of confidence and I invested it in a yearlong lease that would serve as my personal writing studio. The first year in my studio was incredible and I began making a consistent income. I resigned my lease a few months later I released a book that became a NY Times bestseller.

Looking back, I’m not sure how the magical black book got there but I know in my core I was supposed to find it on that serendipitous rainy day. I am thankful for the beautiful gift that was put on my path, for taking the message to heart, and for taking ownership of my life. Finding that book reminded me what lights my soul on fire. It allowed me to create $20,000 and reignite my hidden passion. Out of gratitude I now send out $20,000 worth of notebooks each year to kids across the country, so they can have a safe place to write and explore. The first page of all of the books I send say, ‘Who would you be if you knew you couldn’t fail?’