Tag: growth

03May

Write it down

penandpaperPhoto by topnatthapon

A line I heard today brought me here to post this. I’m certain there are several variations, but the version I heard is easy to remember.

“The faintest ink is better than the best memory.”

Going through notes I’d jotted down, long ago and more recently, reminded me that false memory is a real thing, and that misremembering something can be as troublesome as completely forgetting it. I’ve experienced both in the past few weeks as I’ve stumbled upon notes, whose details are not the way I’d remembered — or of which I had no recall.

Even now, as the world around me distracts me, I’m losing focus about the points I wanted to make in this post. Ideas fade so quickly sometimes. But my main post is: Write it down.

On a piece of paper. On a receipt. On your hand. Or dictate it and record it. Get it on the record, so to speak. Preserve it. Now. Before you forget it.

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01May

The gentle nudge of a slow bloom

snailonslowbloomPhoto by QueSeraSera

This blog post, and others on that site, played a significant role in convincing me it was probably time to get back to blogging and what I sometimes call therapeutic writing.

Past time, probably.

There’s more to the story, including why I chose a photo with a snail on hydrangeas, and perhaps that story is destined to be told here later, but I wanted to be sure to say this: The simple, yet powerful, courage and grace of that slow bloomer gave me comfort regarding my own fight with growth in fits and starts. I wanted to share it with you.

And I just did. Hope you are well, or moving closer to it.

28Apr

Life is one big Q&A, and I’m fine with more Q’s than A’s

qaImage by Fine Art

They say the young question everything, and there’s enough anecdotal evidence to support that contention, but I find the longer I live the more questions I ask — of myself, and of the world.

Just now I was thinking about baseball. A friend of mine is a serious fan who knows the new statistics and the old. He loves good stories. He delves deeply into the game’s metrics and seems to understand the math and the poetry behind it.

Another friend just loves the game, and he doesn’t want to have to think about it too much. So I found myself pondering whether the world of baseball fans has more of the former or the latter. I felt the need to quickly answer that for myself, as if I could not leave it hanging like a curveball waiting to be hit out of the park.

Then, I heard myself think, “I don’t know.”

And I felt how liberating an admission it was, and is. It’s okay to not have the answer to everything. It really is.

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