Cornelius' Meditations

Pressing matters: the marks we make

As a kid, whenever I wrote with a pen or pencil, I pressed so hard that the words left deep impressions on the next blank page. Even when I tried to write lightly, the marks remained—silent echoes of my forceful grip. I remember someone telling me, You don’t have to press that hard into the paper, you know.

I never thought much about it until a few days ago, when I was coloring in Secret Garden, an intricate adult coloring book. As I filled in the patterns, I noticed faint grooves left on the next page. I ran my fingers over them, feeling the rough texture where the pressure had worn the paper uneven. Huh. I guess I do write hard.

Even when coloring, I couldn’t help but press down. Some areas felt different to the touch, like the surface had been disturbed, unsettled in a way that wasn’t visible but was still there.

Maybe I’ve always had this need to make things stick. To leave a mark, to make sure things last. Notes had to be bold and clear, lines had to be dark enough, words had to feel permanent. But paper isn’t meant to be pressed into that hard. And neither is everything else.

I ran my fingers over the rough spots again. The page wasn’t ruined, just textured—changed by the pressure, but still able to hold color, still able to turn.

Maybe I don’t have to press so hard. Maybe things don’t need force to stay.

#Mirror_and_Mazes