Write it Down: What's Your Story?

Keep in mind that the person to write for is yourself. Tell the story that you most desperately want to read.
Susan Isaacs

It started out with Helen Keller, and then it was Lesley Stahl, and sometime later I tripped upon Chelsea Handler.

Each of these women have either autobiographies or biographies about their lives and their purpose. What’s your story? 

I’ve always enjoyed writing; finding and telling a good story. My Dad used to write down my thoughts on the day, or what I would tell him happened. We affectionately called them the “red books,” because they were in fact red daily diary books. They chronicle my early childhood from the perspective of my father, and occasionally as I told him. 

Throughout my life people have told me to “write it down.” Often, I wondered what they wanted me to write down. 

“You should write a novel, it would help people,” one person told me earlier this year.

“You should write a letter, then burn it, or tear it up,” said another not so long ago.

When I write fiction, I read the story back and it almost always reads like my on life. There’s no fiction in the stories I write. The names change and some of the circumstances are different, but I know who the characters are. I know where they’ve been, and I know where they’re going.

At some point that concept became incredibly frightening. 

On this journey to “something fabulous” I’ve found myself sitting right smack down in the middle of my faith. It’s something I haven’t done this earnestly and honestly since high school. Suddenly, I realized one reason why I cannot finish writing “someone else’s story” is because there’s someone else who will. 

As Christian, and in high school, I leaned up against Jeremiah 29:11 (NIV). The Bible says, “For I know the plans I have for you, declares the LORD, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”

For the first time in my life, I actually get it! I can’t write something down to make it true, or to make someone or some circumstance come to life. I can, however, write down whether in the form of a letter, this blog, a poem, or a novel, what I’m thankful for, the lessons I’ve learned, the friendships I’m grateful for, and where I hope I’m going. I can write down what hurts and who I need to forgive -- and no one has to see that! I can also write down the incredible fear in trusting that it will all work out. Whatever “it” is.

Religious or not, if you have faith in what you cannot see, it will work out. Know this: It will work out, even if it’s not as you expected, hoped, or so long desired it would. It’s better this way. 

What’s your story? Are you going to write it down?


UPDATED: 11/8/2011

I'm Not Asking "Why?" Anymore

I looked at my phone for what felt like hours waiting for it to buzz or ring or light up.

Nothing. 

My own wrestling with patience prevented anyone from contacting me first, or so it seemed. That’s because I would stop at almost anything to communicate with someone at randomized, seemingly perfect for me, moments. 

“Think about what you need to do for yourself in those moments,” someone said to me recently. I cannot remember the exact wording now, but they continued and said, “Instead of thinking about what hurts or why its hurting, try to figure out what needs to be healed.” 

Have you ever been hurt and knew exactly what you needed to do to help yourself heal? Could you figure out the first step? 

“That’s a good idea,” I said back. In fact, it seems quite simple now that I think about it. After all, when I was younger it was pretty simple to figure out the first step towards healing. 

When you fall down, you get back up again.

When I was eight, I got on my bicycle and started riding it down the steep back hill of our development. It’s not for certain, but I believe I might have been carrying other things with me, weighing down bicycle with a faster speed to the bottom of that hill. Half way down, the front wheel skirted right, the back went left, and I landed underneath it and the bicycle dragged me about ten more feet. I don’t remember if I cried, but I probably did. I have a scar on the inside of my elbow that reminds me just how deep the road carved into me as the bicycle dragged me down the hill. In that moment, I didn’t need to figure out why it hurt or what had happened. It was quite obvious! So, I, in a sobbing and tearful, bloody mess begrudgingly walked my bicycle back up the hill and home. 

Not all hurts are that easy to figure out, and for most people the hurts become a little more complicated when you get older. Not the hurts, but the cause, and the why sometimes is impossible to figure out. Then, sometimes, we, I know I do, get stuck in wondering why something happened that we cannot see the first step.

One thing is for sure, I’m not asking Why? anymore. 

As a child: “Why did Sigmund (the cat) die?”

Parent: “She wasn’t feeling well and she’s in a better place.”

As a teenager: “Why couldn’t I go to the college I wanted to go to?”

Parent: “Because it wasn’t what you thought it was going to be.”

As an adult: “Why did he leave me?”
Parent: “It’s for the best.”

It’s interesting, I think, that the answers are easy when we’re younger and they are more vague as we get older. More deeply, because when we ask such a deep question like, “Why did he leave me?” or “Why did she have to get cancer?” we most likely wouldn’t be happy with the answer. It would not bring us the joy that we so long hoped to feel again.

When I hurt, sometimes I hit the gym and I pound my feet on the rotating belt as if it were pavement. It’s as if I’m chasing after some sort of something on the horizon and I never get there. Other times, I hang out with friends and occasionally enjoy more than what I need to enjoy when it comes to wine. Or, I write down stories that I hope would make sense of the pain. 

Since my last post, I decided to stop asking why and just go to the source that my Grandma taught me as a young girl: my Faith. Instead of asking myself again, why did my life change in the way it did, I asked who will still love me tomorrow? 

If you’re not a Christian, or have never been to Church, it may not make sense to you. But, for me, the message that I knew, and had heard, and trusted for years was much more loud than it ever has been before. In Romans 8, the Bible says, If our God is for us, then who can be against us? 

That’s real soul food, and real comfort, for me, on this journey... to something fabulous. 

If you're interested in learning more about the Bible, please check out this website. 

"How Are You Dealing With...?"

There are repetitive themes in some of my blog posts. 

Sometimes, the best way to deal with something is by doing absolutely nothing. Sound familiar? Earlier this year, I wrote about how sometimes doing absolutely nothing is doing absolutely something! I suppose it depends where you are coming from.

I think of getting a massage or a spa treatment as doing absolutely nothing that some how is some something that we really and desperately needed.

It’s hard to do nothing, sometimes. If something is bothering a person, many times the desire is to seek a distraction. If they’re dumped, they want to go to a bar and meet new people. If they’ve been out of work, they might volunteer or get involved with their child’s school. Or, they’ll go to the gym or make what was once just a hobby an everyday activity.

For me, being alone with my thoughts can be an unwanted reminder of the unwanted events that have occurred in life. Some people would argue and say, “Your life hasn’t been that bad!”

True! It hasn’t. How a person deals with what’s happened in life is unique to that individual. Not everyone responds to the death of a grandparent the way I did and have. Not everyone can still conjure up tears and emotion six years later. 

“It’s time to get over it,” people might say. Or, they’ll ask, “How are you dealing with...?”

The truth is, for the most part, I never once gave it any thought until people started asking, and then they continued to ask. It dawned on me, I guess I wasn’t dealing with it at all. 

What do you do when you relive how something “bad” made you feel? Do you talk to a friend, a family member, or do you write in a journal? Or, do you turn to something that reminds you of a better time, like an old television show or do you re-read a book you loved?

Or, do you simply do nothing. Sit on the couch, or in a cozy chair, or a rocking chair and look at what’s around you, maybe reading a book? Let me know what you think. 

I Want to Sparkle

It’s September. 

Of course, you already knew that. 

I’m not sure, though, when, or how, this year became to be three-quarters of its way through. Really, I look at the calendar and I’m certain that the pages just turned to June. By the time I recognized it was June, I think it was August. That may explain that.

Time flies when you’re having fun, moving on, learning new things, or growing up. That’s all happened in the last nine months. What have you learned this year?

This year, I learned that I love to be spontaneous, so long as everything else is planned. It’s important to me to know where I’ll sleep, or how I’ll get somewhere, but the rest -- I can go with the flow.

Also, I learned that I’m content with being alone. In fact, much to my dismay, I actually enjoy it. That being said, I do love companionship and hope one day that I can have a relationship where there’s an honest blend of mutual interests and individual interests.

What I learned most about myself and my experiences of this year is what I don’t want, and how to help those who may not want it either. I don’t want to be stifled. 

I want to sparkle.

Getting the frump out of your rump is a permanent process; it is a constant cycle and the recognition of what does deserve and what one does not; and getting it out allows your sparkle to shine through. 

I have something big coming. It’s still in development and it is coming. As soon as I can tell you, I will. I hope you’re as excited about it as I am.