Times have Changed - Teenagers Haven't!

My sixteen-year-old is always amused that I use a Filofax in this day and age.

He knows I am computer savvy.

He knows I own an iPhone and iPad.

He has seen me use Skype.

"So why write things down in a book when you can have everything in your pocket?" he asks.

So I told him.

When I was your age . . . . . 

(you could see his eyes glaze a bit expecting one of 'those' stories)

 . . . . I continued.

When I was sixteen, there was very little technology.

Not like what we have today.

Teenagers dd not have personal computers

There were no cell phones

no internet connections

no broadband

no swipecards

not even credit cards

we only had

the family telephone,

handwritten or typed letters and

face-to-face interaction.

(that's talking for those of you reading this who were born after 1998)

If something exciting happened to you on the weekend

we very rarely were allowed to phone our friends

The telephone was for important things!

you had to save it up and wait until you arrived at school

there were no selfies or instagram

we had to wait for film to be developed and be delivered to the chemist.

We spent a lot of time outside of school with our families and

we always had time up our sleeves.

It was in these days that I learned the power of the written word.

As a young man, I had so many thoughts running through my head

bursting out when no-one could hear me.

Thoughts too personal
or deep to try to explain to others.

Ideas, like bubbles

emerging and disappearing if not captured down on paper.

Dreams quickly jotted down upon awaking from the night.

Scraps of paper stuffed in pockets from scrawled notes while on the bus.

Even the back of my hand became my own personal post-it note.

The written word was a powerful tool we were told at school

'the pen IS mightier than the sword'

So I began to write.

I wrote

and dreamt

and pined

and anguished

and shouted for joy

or groaned with embarrassment
I made claims to become an astronaut

and made adoring swoons at Farrah, Jaclyn and Kate.

I wrote and shared and journaled my way through

those terrible, glorious, sporadic and adventuresome summers of my teenage years.

But within those days
I had no forum to share myself

compared to the youth of today

You had your friends

But they were always so far away

You had your family

But how could you tell THEM how you felt?

What was there to help me speak?

I had my journal

My family

and me.

I learnt to be my own best friend

My journal was the testament to my growth as a person

I moved from just writing my thoughts to

writing my schedules and appointments

As my high school days moved into the heady days of college

I needed to let words organize me

help me to improve

harness my times

get me through.

I found the gift of a day planner.

My first Filofax

A random present from my sister.

A new companion.

We have journeyed far, this diary and me

sometimes we parted ways from my neglect

Some days were so full I could not squeeze in another word

Many times I simply forgot where it was
And there were days where it never left my side.

Sometimes,

my place for writing was my only friend.

One thing is was certain,

it never let me go.

I am a tree

who needs to extend out my branches to the world with words

They are my roots to this life.
My Filofax keeps me grounded.

No electronic gadget can ever do that.

My son would say:
"but technology is so much more RELIABLE and POWERFUL!"

I say:

"Pull the battery out and let's see how reliable it is then"

He sees my point.

I did not seek to win the debate.

I am only pleased that he can see the legacy I can bestow on him
as he himself enters the adult world.

"here's a binder" I say to him

"Go and write something."

He looks at me

He gets it.

As he leaves with paper filled diary and pen in hand

I sit at my desk and see my own Filofax.

I lay my hand just lightly on it's leathery skin.

"Thanks" I say quietly

as if it were a prayer.