Sometimes, we’re so caught up in our daily routines that we fail to notice the subtle, harmful influences we expose ourselves to, every single day. They creep in quietly, affecting everything from our sense of well-being to our relationships with others, even our family. As dramatic as this might sound, it’s something I wasn’t sure I wanted to share—until now. But if it helps even one person, then it’s worth writing.
It all started six years ago, when I was still working at my old job, your classic desk-bound position, with little to no movement, and hours on end glued to a screen. By then, I’d already been in the same routine for three years, and that digital exposure continued well after work hours. I remember, apart from two hours of weekly exercise and maybe a few minutes of reading each day, I couldn’t find the time, or space, for anything that truly slowed me down. Life had picked up an unstoppable pace, and I was just trying to keep up.
That all began to shift the moment I stumbled upon a few videos on calligraphy. Something about them caught me off guard. I remember being completely captivated by the sound of the nib gliding across the paper, and the way each line curled and flowed with such unhurried grace. It struck me that there was real technique behind it all, so I began digging deeper, reading about different styles, nib types, inks, and writing methods. At some point, I told myself it was time to start practicing and maybe even develop a personal style.
With a quiet sense of purpose, I ordered a fountain pen and decided to explore this forgotten world, a world I hadn’t touched since primary school. Sure, I used to take handwritten notes during university lectures, but even then, I scribbled them at the same frantic speed I typed emails at the office. My writing tool? Usually a cheap pen I replaced every few days after inevitably losing it between lecture halls.
And so, my journey into the world of handwriting had begun. Naturally, I started with modest steps—the first fountain pen I ordered was a Faber-Castell Ambition with an extra-fine steel nib. In fact, it still holds a special place in my collection, which has grown exponentially since then. And every now and then, I reach for it again, just to relive the emotion of the first strokes on paper.
I remember starting out with regular printer paper, until I discovered that there’s an entire world built around fountain pen-friendly paper. That’s when I began experimenting with different brands, starting with Rhodia and Clairefontaine, and more recently reaching the famed Tomoe River.
Of course, that first interaction with the fountain pen, after so many years, was a bit of a let-down. I was almost ready to send it back. But I knew that beauty would come with time, and that all I needed was practice. So I kept at it. I’d often steal a few quiet moments at work, jotting down ideas or to-dos in a small notebook. Then, back home, I usually carved out an hour to copy passages from favorite books, practice letters of the alphabet, or train my hand with lines and variations.
Within a few months, I had completely transitioned from taking notes on my phone to carrying a notebook with me everywhere, whether to the office, a café, or even the park. I started to notice that whenever I wrote something with a fountain pen, it just felt more meaningful. Slowing down gave the whole act more purpose, and, somehow, the words too.
Over time, I began planning my days on paper, even writing down important ideas I wanted to explore later. It brought more clarity to my work environment, and surprisingly, to my personal life as well. The best part was having everything in one place. I just had to flip through a few pages. Even that felt easy, because I remembered exactly where I had written things, what I had corrected, and what marks I had made in the notebook.
For me, it became the balance I desperately needed, at a time when everything seemed to start at the keyboard and end with a smartphone screen and a blur of wasted hours. Of course, I still scroll through Instagram or TikTok. I mean, how else would I stay up to date on cats, pasta, and total strangers renovating their kitchens? But now, that’s just a sliver of my day. The rest belongs to handwriting.
Six years later, I feel more connected than ever to this analog ritual, and forever grateful for the perspective it’s brought into my life. If there’s one thing I’d encourage anyone to try, it’s to discover a world that moves at a different pace, by simply picking up a fountain pen. Start small, and you may just find yourself falling into a boundless passion.
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