a heat wave we are having right now brings wth it such fond memories of summertimes past. that makes me think of campfires and the stories that we share in that magical darkness as the sun sets and is replaced with a million twinkling stars.
ah stories!
i have been struggling to get mine birthed from within me lately. i start, i stop. i get distracted or bored. then motivated. then not. the up and down roller coaster life of one who has a passion to tell their story.
but don’t we all?
while walking past people on the street, faces in line in front of me at the coffee house or passing by down the hallway at an office building, i believe there are untold stories there. just waiting to be shared!
to be archived immortal.
unwasted.
the sense is strong that life is searching for these voices to rise up and answer the call with a resounding YES!
i can personally think of a handful of women right in my own inner circle who have a lot to say, a tale to share and a heart to offload. i find myself wishing i had a giant woven farmer’s market basket and that instead of collecting produce in the field, i could gather these stories up like pixie dust- sparkling and fleeting like morning dew.
they must be grabbed when it appears, or it’ll be gone forever, leaving no trace behind itself for the world to ever know it had existed. buried with the spirit forever. it has been said that the richest place is the graveyards, for all of the stories never told, risks never taken and inventions only misty dreams never materialized. what an absolute shame.
i cannot force others to go out to the field of their own lives to gather up their stories and put pen to paper, but i can do it in my own journey. and hopefully, as i continue to work my way through this muddled process of creating something out of seemingly nothing, i can inspire others to do the same.
we are all trailblazers and forerunners if we would only hungrily grab the torch that’s passed to us and run like the wind, with god speed, into the waiting and open arms of our past story that’s screaming out to be written…
image: docedesfrute.wordpress.com