Tell Me Your Story. . . I So Want To Know

Can I write a book? Do I have the intellect, the knowledge, the ability, the creativity, the gift? Hmm. I don't rightly know. What I do know is that this idea - crazy as it might be - has been part of me for a good long while now. Just yesterday, a beloved friend reminded me of my dream. Seems I had forgotten about it or shelved the idea or set it aside because life got busy. But the moment she spoke the words, "when are you going to start writing your book", the idea of it came flooding back and filled me with all the warm, fuzzy feelings I long ago connected with the thought of it all. My idea is really quite simple. It involves people and stories and stringing the two together. Everyone has a story to tell. Everyone! All humans. . . rich or poor, black or white, male or female, old or young have a story. A memory. An event. Something that happened in their life that created or caused powerful emotion in them. Something that changed them for the better. . . or for the worse. A force so strong that it had a ripple effect throughout their family, their community, their country and even the world at large. I want to know those stories. I want the world to know. And what better way to share then a book? So here's what I propose I do. I shall buy a cheap, hand-held tape recorder (or whatever we call recording devices in this day and age) and I will then approach people one at a time. Friend or foe, stranger or acquaintance. I will ask them for 15 minutes. Give me 15 minutes and tell me your story. Everyone has one, won't you please tell me yours? Once I have collected enough material, the real journey will begin. Putting it altogether - finding the commonality, the themes, the similarities - the proof if you will - that we humans all share one thing. Emotions. Feelings. Thoughts. And those emotions, feelings and thoughts when put into action, create change that shapes the world. What a fascinating story this could be. Can I write it? Well, that's a whole other question. But I'm willing to try, and that's a start. So I'm off. . . getting ready to create a story of my own. . . one that will hopefully help shape and change the world. And even if it doesn't do all that, at least it will be a new journey in my life. I welcome the challenge.

On Loveliness

Are you lovely? Can you remember a time in your life when you were lovely? I read in a book recently that the poet Galway Kinnell wrote that "sometimes it is necessary to reteach a thing its loveliness." Honestly, I do not recall a time - not even one - in my life when lovely was a word I would use to describe myself. Sad, huh? That there are people in the world who consider themselves lovely actually comes as a surprise to me, which is even sadder I think. Pretty, beautiful, attractive, appealing, easy-on-the-eye, marvelous, fabulous . . . lovely are not, at least in my mind, synonymous with Karen. If I do not believe these things to be true about myself and never have, how then, I wonder, did Mr. Kinnell think someone like me could be retaught? Reteaching implies it was something once known. Something once known. Hmm. Did I know I was lovely at birth? Right out of the womb? A time I have no memory of. Perhaps I did. Or maybe I was one or two or three when I knew myself to be lovely. Again, all ages I have no memory of. So maybe Mr. Kinnell was correct in his assumption that all beings know themselves to be lovely at one time or another, and because of this, perhaps be can be retaught. So how I wonder can I be retaught my loveliness? Is there a class on this somewhere? Maybe the local university? Maybe church or a Buddhist temple or a mosque or synagogue? Maybe a book or magazine. I don't know and therein lies the problem. I long to be lovely. For if I was - if I truly viewed myself that way - how much better life would be. I've searched for happiness; I've longed for it. Real, genuine, everyday happiness - not that pretend, make-believe kind but the real mccoy. If only I could find a way to "be" lovely, all the issues that keep me unhappy would fade away or at least I chose to believe they would. So from this day forward, I shall vow to relearn my loveliness. Instead of seeking happiness, I shall seek loveliness.