“Writing for me, is an act of faith, a hope that I will discover what is meant by truth. I also think of reading as an act of faith, a hope that I will discover something remarkable about ordinary life, about myself. I the writer and the reader discover the same thing, if they have that connection, the act of faith has resulted in an act of magic. To me, that is the mystery and the wonder of both life and fiction–the connection between two individuals who discover in the end that they are more the same than they are different.”—Amy Tan author of “The Joy Luck Club”
Reading my friends “stories” this week has definitely resulted in an act of magic. I hope many more will keep posting their thoughts. It is a scary thing…I have blogged long enough to know that “ butterfly feeling” in the stomach, that begins the moment you push the “Post” button. I applaud everyone’s bravery in sharing a little part of yourself!
My sister, Cathy, has always been at my door for every happy and for every sad event of my life with a flower, a casserole or cleaning supplies. Of course, she put aside her fear and showed up to support my blog. She wrote:
Piece of Me
It started as a thought, I suppose. Definitely a desire of some kind. Then there was me. A little piece of those who came before. Brown eyes and a love of outdoors from Dad. Smooth skin and the joy of reading from Mom. Years pass. There is another thought, another desire, and a piece of me is born. Repeated seven times. A piece of me that loves to a be a mother but does it so much better. A little piece of my sense of humor personified into one who needs laughter to thrive. An obedient heart, working to be a peacemaker, a love of learning, a small measure of athletic ability, a need to talk, a desire to serve the Lord, trying to do my best; tiny pieces of me passed on with my DNA. Seven different pieces of me, magnified by their own uniqueness, that somehow make me complete.
My friend Katy is wise beyond her years and a source of so much inspiration to me on FaceBook—she is also an amazing baker and artist! She wrote:
I don’t know who I am yet. Maybe I never will. At least, not in this life. Maybe in my next, or next. Maybe by then I will be done living in this world, and can settle in the one I am most comfortable in. I can pretty much guarantee it won’t be this one. In that world, there will be obvious beauty in all things, the most intimate of friends to sit on the porch and rock with no matter how far they live, after all, we can get anywhere in the twinkling of an eye. We will sit back and laugh at how hard we made things on ourselves, and wonder how different our lives would have been if we knew then what we know now. Oh, how hindsight is everything, and nothing….yet now, in hindsight, maybe I do know who I am after all.
When I wrote of sharing a cup of coffee with an intimate friend, Ruthanne would certainly fall in this category—had we been alive in during the Salon days of Paris, she would have been by my side as we expounded our thoughts on “how things should be”—who knows maybe we were! Check out her blog at Floating Flair!
I was raised in a closed minded world. I would often run into the walls around my life but was too fearful of the man-god I was taught about to ever break free. When someone I love broke through, I gladly followed. I was introduced to new ideas and opportunities. I learned to accept everyone, but was challenged with the ability to leave regrets behind. I am learning to live in the now, and value a tomorrow. I continue on the quest to find peace with a desire for enough time to achieve it.
Please keep posting—they put a smile on my face and a tear in my eye-Magic!