The Scariest Place - The Safest Place

I took a one month break from blogging in December, hoping that when I returned I might have something worthwhile to say.  My daughter teaches writing at the college freshman level.  Recently she wrote about a device called a "writing prompt."  I had heard of this tool previously, but much like an unused whisk in my kitchen drawer, I have rarely if ever actually used one.

The fact is I generally don't need anything to prompt me to write.  I have been writing since I was a girl, occasionally for minor publication, but generally just because it is what I do.  I write.


I write when I am glad, sad, mad, or just too full of myself to hold it all in.  I tell stories which are mostly family anecdotes or vignettes from my corporate days.  I try to write it like it is and not as I would wish it to be.  However, sometimes I embellish and sometimes my prose is a sparse as as the hair on the head of a ninety year-old.

There is something, however, that I have not yet written - my story.  As a publisher once said to me, "Marsha, everyone has a story.  But not every one's story should be told."  He went on to tell me that he thought my story was worth telling.  I am still not convinced.  But the thought is there, niggling away in the back of my mind.


I am not thinking of an autobiographical chronology, because who really cares whether I was born in Illinois or Indiana?  I am thinking more along the lines of sharing my journey.

For many years I kept a framed picture on my office wall of a trail through a forest with a caption that read, "Success is a journey not a destination."  It is a common theme for office walls, perhaps; but even if trite, I suspect it is also true.


I allow for the possibility that life is not about a destination either, or at least not one in this world; but perhaps it is more about the journey; it's quality, character, colors and connections.


Last night I watched the annual Kennedy Center Honors for the performing arts.  One of those being honored said something that made me catch my breath.  I grabbed a pen a wrote it down.


The scariest place to be is really the safest place - and that is to let people in, to let them know what life has done to us.  ~ Barbara Cook, singer and 2011 Kennedy Center Honoree.


I am not sure that I can do that or that I should do that.  But I am thinking about it.

Until next time, wishing you and your family a Happy New Year !  ...Marsha

Question:  Have you ever written or told "your story" and if so, did it turn out as you expected it would?  Was it worth the effort you made to be known to others?