"Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves. Do not now seek the answers, which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them. And the point is to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, live along some distant day into the answers." ~Rainer Maria Rilke
You know your heart's song when it plays the unheard melody in your head. The melody no one hears except you. The one that plays over and over when you look at the sunrise or the sunset and wonder if that special someone you love far away hears it too, as it makes its way over rivers, mountains, and over seas.
Can you hear the lullaby your mother hummed while you drifted to dreamland or the nursery rhymes she sung—the ones you taught your own children? Do you hear an old tune on the radio and in a blink, you are instantly transports you into the arms of a lost love? Does it bring you sorrow as you wonder about what could have been or does it bring you a joyful moment that something wonderful beyond words took place?
Reminiscing is not a new subject for me to blog about. The older we get, I believe we have the tendency to do it more. It keeps friendships and relationships tied together when you can share a memory that makes you smile years after it happened. Sometimes it's an ice breaker when you haven't seen a friend in a long time. I know, it happens all the time with me. Like when someone I knew long ago recalled the day I shared my guarded poetry with him across my parent's dining room table. Or, making a fort amongst gooseberry bushes as a child with my best friend. If everyone would write those stories down, each and everyone of us has the potential to write a great book. Maybe it will never get published, but it gives your descendants a glimpse into your life. How else would your grand kids know about you after you're gone? Who will know what songs made you cry? Who will know why you were depressed? Who will know the person behind the crusted exterior of age if you don't share what people and events made you happy or made you cry? I learned more about my parents in the months before they passed than the accumulation of years when I didn't pay attention. I'm glad I listened so I could pass on their legacy.
Recently, I completed my first novel. I will remember the date and
time like I remember my first kiss. It was that monumental. For as
long as I can remember, the number one thing I wanted to do before I
left this world was to write a book. When I was in the 4th
grade, I wrote a poem that seemed to impress a teacher who wanted to
know if she could make a song out of it. I don't know if that ever
happened, but I would have to say that was the day Sister Marie
Gordon inspired me to keep writing. Unfortunately, everything I wrote
I kept to myself, afraid of criticism. My writings were so guarded,
most people who know me didn't know of my passion and looked at me
wide-eyed and said, “You write?” So, when I sent off my
manuscript to be edited, I admit I was scared. Scared as hell, that
my sentences would be professionally dissected. But life is full of
leaps of faith, accomplishments, and disappointments, and how would
we know if we weren't successful if we didn't at least give it a try.
Right? Every writer I know feels the same way when a project ends and
is ready as it will ever be. Will I think I will be a notable author?
I don't know. I do know, I will never stop writing and one day, my
children and grand children will inherit a lot to read about my life
and my dreams.
You know your heart's song when it plays the unheard melody in your head. The melody no one hears except you. The one that plays over and over when you look at the sunrise or the sunset and wonder if that special someone you love far away hears it too, as it makes its way over rivers, mountains, and over seas.
Can you hear the lullaby your mother hummed while you drifted to dreamland or the nursery rhymes she sung—the ones you taught your own children? Do you hear an old tune on the radio and in a blink, you are instantly transports you into the arms of a lost love? Does it bring you sorrow as you wonder about what could have been or does it bring you a joyful moment that something wonderful beyond words took place?
Reminiscing is not a new subject for me to blog about. The older we get, I believe we have the tendency to do it more. It keeps friendships and relationships tied together when you can share a memory that makes you smile years after it happened. Sometimes it's an ice breaker when you haven't seen a friend in a long time. I know, it happens all the time with me. Like when someone I knew long ago recalled the day I shared my guarded poetry with him across my parent's dining room table. Or, making a fort amongst gooseberry bushes as a child with my best friend. If everyone would write those stories down, each and everyone of us has the potential to write a great book. Maybe it will never get published, but it gives your descendants a glimpse into your life. How else would your grand kids know about you after you're gone? Who will know what songs made you cry? Who will know why you were depressed? Who will know the person behind the crusted exterior of age if you don't share what people and events made you happy or made you cry? I learned more about my parents in the months before they passed than the accumulation of years when I didn't pay attention. I'm glad I listened so I could pass on their legacy.
