“To see that your life is a story while you're in the middle
of living it may be a help to living it well.”
― Ursula
K. Le Guin
I am challenged today.
My crowded mind has an idea traffic jam, a luxurious feast of images and tempting sensory treats I just want to get onto the page.
I want to write about my trip to New England because there were so many wonderful images with stories attached, popping up to greet me. It is as if each separate story wanted time with me, asked for her or his story to be told.
There is the bird song that sounded like a voluptuous rock, plopped into the Connecticut River.
There is the “getting lost” only to find a place I have always wanted to visit – in a one-on-one tour.
Did I mention there is a vacant house for rent at that very place?
There are the cemeteries and the photos at the cemeteries and the art at the cemeteries and the lives there, underground and waiting.
There is the rental car – company will not be named – that was such a problem it became a joke and the fact they treated me well when I brought it back means I won’t spew their name around the internet. Everything that went wrong? It was because of them… while the trip was at full tilt.
There was the trip into the Boston area – a place we never made it to because for the first time in perhaps history the city of Boston got locked down – on the very day we were going to visit.
I remember now the cow photos, the revolutionary war homes, the courting story of Dr. Samuel Prescott, the dinner with Katherine when she ordered a dacquiri and we shared crazy family stories with Amanda.
I laugh now at my uncanny ability to re-find places that draw me in and back and back and in.
How could I not write about visiting Emily again and NOT visiting the Five Little Peppers… again?
Lowell. Providence. “Making lemonade” and meeting Elli.
Used book store visits. Sunset watching. Sunrise chasing. Motherly pride.
An entire week without Christmas music.
Let’s not forget returning home to a construction accident in my neighborhood which meant a brief evacuation – which luckily didn’t impact any of my family directly, but a three plus hour plane right in a sardine can of a “regional jet” was sort of tortuous to say the least, when I didn’t know couldn’t know what to expect when I got home.
Short story on that: right now my gas power is being restored and “re-safetified.” Apparently there was a gas line underneath all these houses on my block. It’s been capped. All is in working order now.
Or should I say almost. I can hear the technician working in the kitchen as I type.
There are so many things to write about, so many stories to tell.
This is true of your life, today, too. Look out across the past week in your life. In the opening quote, Ursula LeGuin mentions living life well partially being a result of the awareness we cultivate that our life is a story worth telling, whether it is about washing the dishes or driving the kids to school or getting that coveted client or solving a home repair fix.
When you start looking for and understanding the richness within each moment - each mini story – your life will become richer. Everything else will fall into place.
What story wants to be written first?
This post is Number 12 of 30 and was inspired by the Ultimate Blog Challenge. I fell behind due to my travels and am hoping hoping hoping to catch up. Please give me some extra TLC via commenting, etc - as I will need it as I write write write for the next week or so!
Throughout the month I will be posting writing and creativity tips especially to make your writing (and your writing experience!) better.
I'm so glad you are here!
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