Welcome to my commonplace book—a notebook for ideas, questions and small things worth remembering. Here you’ll find short reflections on reading and everyday life. Some begin with a familiar moment; others with a question that has no easy answer. Make yourself comfortable and start wherever you like.
A little room for a thought to settle.
On reading
A pencil in the margin
Have you ever stopped halfway through a page because a sentence seemed to say exactly what you had been thinking? You might underline it, fold the corner, or reach for a scrap of paper. You want to keep it somewhere you can find it again.
Sometimes, though, we pause because we disagree. A writer makes something sound simple, and we think: yes, but what happens when life is more complicated than that? That little question is worth keeping too.
This is where a commonplace book comes in. It is simply a notebook for passages, ideas and observations we want to remember. There is no special way to organise it. A few lines about a book can sit beside a question that came up during a conversation.
If you copy a passage, add the writer’s name and the book it came from. Then leave a little space for your own response. What caught your attention? Did it help you understand something, or leave you less sure than before?
You do not need an impressive answer. Even “I like this, but I’m not sure why” gives you somewhere to begin. When you return to the page, you may find the words you were looking for.
A pencil in the margin is a small invitation to join the conversation. You are allowed to bring your own questions.
A question to keep
It’s all right to leave a thought unfinished
You can care about a friend and still find it difficult to say yes to everything they ask. You want to help, but you are tired. You need some time for yourself, then feel guilty for needing it. Both feelings can be real.
A notebook is a useful place for thoughts like these. You can write them down without having to settle the question immediately. Nobody is waiting for a confident answer. There is time to ask what is making the choice difficult.
Perhaps you promised more than you could manage. Perhaps your friend has no idea how tired you are. Perhaps a smaller offer of help would be enough. Once the situation is on paper, it can become easier to see the different parts of it.
The same approach can help with an opinion we have held for years. We might still believe most of it, while beginning to question one part. Writing “I’m not sure about this anymore” leaves room to learn without demanding that we start again from nothing.
Of course, a decision may still be needed. We can make the best choice available, explain it kindly and accept that we may understand more later.
An unfinished thought can stay in the notebook until we are ready to return to it. Leave a few blank lines. A later conversation, or a little more experience, may give you something useful to add.
An ordinary detail
What we do not photograph
Picture a long lunch with people you feel comfortable around. The plates have been cleared, but everyone is still sitting at the table. Someone begins another story. The tea goes cold. Nobody seems in a hurry to leave.
You could take a lovely photograph of that table. It would show the cups, the sunlight and perhaps a few crumbs. But it would leave out something important: how easy it felt to be there.
Some of the things we most enjoy about a day are hard to photograph. A familiar voice in the kitchen. A joke that makes everyone laugh more than it should. The comfort of sitting quietly with someone who does not expect you to fill the silence.
A few words in a notebook can help us remember those things. They can be very simple: “We stayed at the table long after the tea was finished.” When we read them later, the rest of the afternoon may come back with them.
And if we write nothing down, that is fine too. We can enjoy a good afternoon without saving it or sharing it. Being there is enough.
When you do feel like making a note, try starting with one small detail. What made you smile? What helped you relax? There may be a whole memory waiting behind something as ordinary as a cup of cold tea.
