Sometimes I wake up with a story on my heart that I know is mine to share for the day. Sometimes I wander to my desk trusting that what needs to be said will come when it’s time. On those mornings, I often scroll through the pictures on my phone to jog my memory about a story that could be of service in some way. Sometimes an images quickly jumps out at me, and off we go. Some days, I keep scrolling and scrolling, and inspiration eludes me. (The more accurate term for this is creative resistance.)
This was one of those mornings.
On days like this I have a couple of choices. I can keep scrolling the images, which sometimes helps or I can just write about something that I’m not that particularly inspired by. Or, I can open a book, or do a google search of ideas that seem important. It depends on the day. It’s a fluid process.
Today was a “scrolling forever” kind of morning.
In my groggy morning state, I got so far back in the albums that I felt the need to start sorting the images. (#resistance!) I kept coming across these precious images of my babies from years gone by that I didn’t want to forget. I wanted to make sure to remember show them to the boys. Since I have folders for “Noah’s Memories” and “Oakley’s Memories”, I thought I’d just sort a few. (We both know how that turned out.) I scrolled through pictures of birthday parties, diaper pirates, broken arms, fish burials, first day of schools, family halloween dress ups, muddy creek days, vacations, weddings and funerals. What kept standing out to me, is the breadth of the “memories”. I could sort hundreds of images into their “memories” folders. I quickly recognized this wasn’t the time do implement the full photo sort.
But it reminded me of the importance of sharing our stories.
“All families have stories to tell and all children love to hear them. The stories children read in books help them to become part of other people’s worlds but the stories they hear from their family help them to understand their own world, who they are, where they come from and where they might want to go. The stories of our childhood shape the people we become and the world we create.” ~ Jonathan Douglas
There’s such a special confidence that arises in each of us when we can go back to remember who we were before the world told us who to be. When we can go back to being a child and remember the joy, the naiveté, the hope, and creativity of those early years. For certain, there are also some painful memories there as well. But they’re all important. They are the stories that made you who you are.
They’re the stories that gave you strength.
They’re also the stories that made you strong.
Remember them.
Tell them.
Mostly, remember that while all those stories are part of your history, you’re still holding the pen.
Keep writing the story you want to leave behind.
to more love,
Crystal
