For a while I've been pondering how to
collect and document memories, specifically my mom’s memories. Not knowing where to begin, I purchased an online course called, "Essentials of Memoir Writing." To help me get started, I will journal some sketches here ~ while pretending that you are sitting beside me ~ because it is much more fun to chat with someone particular.
The Top Ten
The assignment for today was to select ten topics that relate to my life experiences, and from those ten, write a memory. This exercise was good for me. Topic selection is not my strength, nor am I skilled at staying on topic. In my mind, everything relates and questions dominate feelings or descriptions. But here is what came from the end of my old-fashioned, dull pencil:
Opening to Philosophy
Have you ever pondered what you are made of? We all know we are covered with skin and
hair. We bleed. Our bones and joints form our structure. Fat molds our shape. Yes. But beyond the material, what are
we? We have thoughts and feelings, hope,
dreams, fears, instincts, longings, love and memories.
It is the first day of October and the cool, early morning breeze carries a sense of relief. Summer is finally over. Outside the window, be-speckled with dried raindrops, a mourning dove lands in a sunny area, looks left then right, up and down, then stands still on the gravel outside. After only a couple of seconds it flutters with its soft, grey wings up into the safety of a nearby tree. I am wondering about the bird’s thoughts. Why did it choose that spot for its landing and why did it flutter away? What is it, beyond feathers, innards,watchful eyes, beak and feet, that makes a bird?
I've often realized that we, created beings, are walking chemical factories. Beginning as a single cell, saturated with specific instructions on how to develop ~ suddenly a cluster~ exponentially exploding into the creative blueprint we were designed to be. Our matter also becomes a finished, birthed, living thing with a preordained purpose ~ filled with grace and the freedom to pursue life within the parameters of what we are ... beyond matter.
Bird: gatherer, builder of nests, spreader of seed, food for other animals, music.
Woman: nurturer, thinker,
gardener, cook, mother, daughter, sister, friend, wife...
But what about the part of us that is NOT chemical,
mechanical, and material ~ what else?
What is it that we are? And
why are we here? These questions have always fascinated me. And my memories are often linked to these philosophical, mental firecrackers; like the memory of when Grandpa Kreinheder sat me on his knee and told me with his gravely voice that there was "no God." And the day my brother stated that on something as small as a piece of dandruff, there are living things, and probably living things on those things, and on those...I can see those moments, though dimmed...as though I'm watching a movie.
Memoir Notes:
(And what does this have to do with collecting Mom's Memories?)
I plan to find out.
I plan to find out.
~~~~~~~
This is my third year in a row to join the challenge of writing for 31 days on a topic. More here: 31 Days - a writing challenge every October,every day.
This is wonderful! I'm glad that you were able to get your post up... DON'T GIVE UP! Thanks to your reminding me- I wrote a post, post haste...he-he-he. And am joining in the challenge again this year, my second 31 Day challenge.
ReplyDeleteI look forward to reading this...and it is weird. But we (you and I) are like two birds of a feather.
You'll see when you read my post!
Oh, good! It's going to make it all the more meaningful to have a friend alongside. BTW, I fixed the no-reply issue (I think) so let me know next time I comment. The birds of a feather thing, yeah, I knew that. And thanks for the encouragement. ~Love, Becky
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