My Magic Pen

When I was 9, I had—what I believed to be—a magic pen. It came from my aunt as a gift for my 9th birthday. Now, every time my aunt would give me a present, she’d preempt my receipt of said gift with the disclaimer, “I asked my friend who has a daughter your age what girls like these days, but her daughter is a tomboy. So all she wants is soccer stuff and things that aren’t girly.” 

Now, to me, new soccer stuff sounded like a fine present. As a relatively gender non- conforming person, I never limited myself to the idea of “what girls like” or “what boys like.” In the Venn diagram of gender expression, I think of myself as a whole person with both masculine and feminine traits. And the way that gets expressed is going to vary based on culture and society. For example, pink and purple are generally considered rather girly colors here in the United States. When Collin and I camped on the Maasai Mara in Kenya, we noticed that males in the Maasai tribe were wearing many bold colors in their shukas (traditional cloths worn across the body). One particular and popular, checkered pattern, appeared to be pink and purple. They also wear their shukas in a way that looks like what we would deem a “skirt.” I assure you that these fellows are masculine in their culture, even though wearing a pink and purple skirt in our culture would not necessarily give masculine vibes. All that to say, I would have loved soccer stuff when I was 9, but I also loved what my aunt gave me instead that year: a heart-shaped note pad of paper with a cupid-like arrow pen. 

Now, I don’t know when or how this practice began, but it became my private (secret) practice to use the arrow pen to write on the heart-shaped paper “so and so likes Lindsay.” So and So was whomever my current crush was. And within a short time, after I wrote it with my cupid arrow pen, that person would profess their like for me (I’m not calling a 9 year old crush love). 

Now, need I remind you what I looked like?

Clearly, this pen was magic. 

In all seriousness, though, I’ve been thinking lately about intention and whether it makes a difference and, if so, how or why. I’ve been thinking about what I’d write with a magic pen if I had one. And as I write this, I’m wondering what each of you reading would write with yours. 

That was not the first time that my written word wielded power, nor the last. When I was in my twenties, I had a negligent boss who was causing harm to the staff because of his absolute lack of involvement. It went on for years until finally, a dam broke within me. I was a new mama, exclusively nursing (or pumping every 3 hours at the office) as the means to feed my baby, and I was a full time graduate student. AND, I was designing and implementing an IRB-approved research study that year in Kenya analyzing the sociocultural variables influencing adolescents’ sexual behaviors. It is an understatement to say that I was busy and stressed. There was some final incident where I was asked to do something absolutely over-the-top by an external entity (and so were the rest of the staff) that none of us had capacity to do in addition to all our other, necessary work. I tried to inform my boss that we were all drowning in work and unable to meet the demands without his executive intervention. He sent me an email saying he was on vacation and had spotty service so I shouldn’t expect to hear much from him. But, he wished me good luck and said that he had every confidence I’d figure out what to do.

I figured out what to do, alright. I whispered to myself, “the pen is mightier than the sword,” and I wrote a very articulate (while not unkind) letter to our Board Chair informing him of the real, behind- the-scenes situation about the lack of support or leadership from our Executive Director. Within a couple months, the Board gave him an early retirement and hired a new leader. I think everyone landed alright in that situation. Sometimes the truth needs to be harnessed into the written word and brought into the light. 

Words are powerful. We can use them as tools to shape reality. We can use them like a chisel to carve out someone’s gifts and potential. We can use them to inspire, to uplift, and to create a bridge between what is, what’s possible, and what will be. We can shape perspective and perception in a way that directs us towards what’s good and right. 

We can also use words as weapons to harm, to diminish, to invoke fear, and display dominance. We can use them to belittle, to devalue, and to create division. We can use them to confuse, to obscure the truth, or to flat out lie. 

The reality is that my cupid’s arrow pen wasn’t magic. But maybe my words were. Maybe those words were crafted with enough intention that it gave me hope. Maybe that hope grew into faith. Maybe that faith shaped my thoughts which turned into attitudes, and then eventually these became behaviors that worked towards achieving my desired outcome. 

I don’t know how magic works, but understanding it doesn’t make it less magical. We know why the sun “rises” and it’s not less magnificent. We know why the rain falls, and it doesn’t make it less of a gift. We know a lot about crystals and fungi but that doesn’t exhaust their mystique, complexity, or diminish the marvel that they are. I call these things magic, and they used to be held as such in the human psyche. Science is awesome, but sometimes the western scientific approach can be like a wet blanket on our sense of wonder and awe.  But it doesn’t have to be that way. I mean, watching Cosmos was a mind-blowing and spiritual experience for me. For as much as we know, there’s infinitely more that we don’t. Whether we get microscopic or macroscopic, there’s mystery to uncover and explore. 

I call this “endlessly knowable magic.” 

And if you get tired of holding the visible, physical world in awe, then turn your attention to the invisible, to love. There is a lot of love here. A lot of good. A lot of beauty. Love and kindness are infinitely renewable resources. The more we share them, the more they increase. Let’s practice the miracle of generosity of resources, both invisible and visible, and live into that magic daily.

I’m writing these things because many of us need hope right now. We need cause to believe that there IS a lot of good worth fighting for. We need to know that there are others—many others—who still cast their vote for goodness, not “greatness.” We need to remember the long arc of justice, and the hope that Love has the final word. 

And maybe there’s my answer to my earlier wondering…what would I write with my magic pen?

With my magic pen I write that Love gets the final word and soon. I write that our weary souls will have glimmers of hope from one another here in this small corner, there in that far other corner, day by day, until a big day of reconciliation arrives. I’d write that the small acts of kindness that we show one another will amplify, multiply, uplift, and inspire us to determine our steps towards creating a more just world soon. I write that wrongs will be accounted for, reparations will be made. That our love will not shrink back. That the moral compass of the vast majority of people will stay pointed (or return) to North towards what’s good, what’s true, and the essence of Love and Life itself.  

May Love infuse our words, embolden our hearts, clarify our thoughts, strengthen our resolve, and determine our steps towards what’s truly good. 

Tell me, friend, what do you write with your magic pen?