I finished this book on Tuesday evening during a meeting. I finished writing in it, not reading it.
Last night, I paged through it. I found the starting date: May 3, 2012. It took just a bit over two years to write on every page.
This thing is filled with meeting notes, brainstorms, ideas, interviews, drawings, and concepts. There's a business plan or two and for some of the pages, I can remember where I was. I recall the coffee shop I sat in to make notes after I was unexpectedly let go from a project I believed in. There's the terminal I was delayed in for an hour, so I sketched the idea for a new initiative. There was that airplane, that conference room, that hotel, and that house.
I won't throw this thing out. It'll serve as a tangible reminder of what may very well be the wildest two years of my professional life.
I don't need proof that it happened. But I want evidence that I was bought in, every step of the way.
Your buy-in may be digital notes, deep memories, or tattered journals. Whatever it is, don't throw it away.
These reminders can be great building blocks, touchpoints, milestones, or reminders. That was where you were. Look how far you've come.
And now? Now a new notebook comes out to be filled with new ideas. New dreams and hopes. New plans and adventures.
In that way, then, the filling up of pages isn't the closing of a chapter. It's the springboard to a new day.