Tag Archives: Stories

Photo Friday: First Instagram Photo.

16 Nov

The first Instagram photo taken with my iPhone!

“Perhaps some day I’ll crawl back home, beaten, defeated. But not as long as I can make stories out of my heartbreak, beauty out of sorrow.” -The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

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Why we need more memoirists.

10 Nov

In the right hands, a memoir is the flecks of gold panned out of a great, muddy river. A memoir is those flecks melted down into a shapable liquid that can be molded and hammered into a single bright band to be worn on a finger, something you could point to and say, “This? Oh, this is my life.” Everyone has a muddy river, but very few have the vision, patience, and talent to turn it into something so beautiful. That is why the writer matters, so that we can not only learn from her experience but find a way to shape our own. -Ann Patchett, afterword of Autobiography of a Face

Though I do love everything about this quote from the afterword of Lucy Grealy’s Autobiography of a Face, the last line of the quote is what really speaks to me. Since I am in the process of writing my own memoir, over the past few months I’ve vowed to read more memoirs to gain a greater understanding of the genre I’m trying to be a part of. Spending more time reading memoirs rather than fiction, I’ve begun to realize what’s so appealing about them. Memoirs tell the stories of people…they dive deep into the love, pain, fear, excitement, love, and joy that has filled each and every one of those stories. People love reading about people. That’s a fact. However, more than that, I think memoirs allow readers to find pieces of themselves in the memoirist, even though the understanding behind those pieces may feel unclear. Either way, those pieces, however different, provide connection…a sense of belonging that was otherwise lacking.

It may seem obvious that the desire for more memoirists in our society is strong. However, though that may be true, the fact of the matter is that writing about one’s own life isn’t easy. It’s hard. Really, really hard. It’s the process of stripping away every mask that you’ve hidden behind for much of your life. It’s what happens when you force your true self out into the harsh light of day, continually resisting the urge to look away in shame. In my opinion, writing a memoir shows vulnerability. It shows courage, strength, and every emotion that we experience throughout our lives. Through vulnerability, it shows authenticity in its rarest form, and that in itself is truly miraculous.

Through reading Lucy Grealy’s memoir, Autobiography of a Face, I’ve started to understand just what memoirists can offer. Other than providing us with the obvious pieces that connect to form a complete, living, breathing life, memoirists give us the opportunity to embrace our own vulnerabilities rather than shrinking behind them. They allow us to come face to face with the contentment that results from being able to face your past, scars and all, head on. They give us the chance to find our true selves, no matter how frightening or foreign that part of us may be. They present us with the opportunity to love ourselves, which in turn allows others to love us just as much, if not more.

Beyond The Waves by Elizabeth Marek: A Book Review.

6 Jun

During one of my many trips to my favorite used bookstore in Asheville, I came across Beyond The Waves by Elizabeth Marek when looking through the bargain books. After reading the synopsis on the back of the book, it seemed like a book I’d like, but more than that, it seemed like the type of read that I’d pay much more than one dollar for. I’ll take the deals where I can get them though!

Psychologist Abby Cohen is still reeling from the loss of her beloved daughter when another young girl arrives in her life-twelve-year-old Miranda, who appears at Abby’s hospital mute, terrified, and completely alone. In her struggle to connect with this deeply disturbed child and unravel the mystery of her past, Abby must grapple with her own frozen self.

Numbed by grief and on the verge of losing her relationship with both her husband and little boy, Abby finds herself tempted to leave behind what is left of the family she once cherished. But something about Miranda and the bond that has begun to form between them awakens Abby’s capacity to feel, and reminds her of the power-and the limits-of love.

The way the characters of Abby and Miranda came together in order to deal with the demons of their different pasts was moving to me. I was most drawn to the character of Miranda simply because my heart ached for her and the mysterious past that she seemed to be very troubled by. Through much of the book, Miranda was afraid and alone. Though that was heartbreaking for me, it was also a very huge reminder of why I want to be a counselor myself. Psychologist Abby Cohen tries throughout the book to connect to Miranda, despite the fact that Miranda seems very frightened and alone. However, that’s all the more reason that I strive to connect with others. Though my past wasn’t as extreme as it could have been, it wasn’t easy. I spent so many years afraid, in pain, and surrounded by doctors and parents, and yet feeling utterly alone. When I was going through my intense physical therapy and 3 intense surgeries, I wanted someone who understood or at least could be there to remind me that I wasn’t alone through all the pain. Studies show that every person benefits from a strong support system. Though I had support from my parents and other family members, that wasn’t the kind of support I was looking for. Even though at the time there wasn’t a friend who was aching to understand, what I didn’t know at the time was that the support was coming.

My support came during my junior year at Salem Academy when I met my best friend, Skidmore. Skidmore was the very first person I completely opened up to in regards to all the details of my past. Every memory of pain, fear, loneliness….Skidmore knows it. Realizing that I had someone to share everything with was big, but once I began to understand that Skidmore longed to know so that she could understand who I truly was, I practically never stopped talking. I mean, it came out slow (the details of my past), but it felt so good to tell someone. Telling someone about my pain, fear, and loneliness and having them not judge me or feel sorry for me, but just love me….scars and all…that’s what I had been looking for, and I found it. Though I know have other friends who are an equal amount of support, no one knows as much as Skidmore does. Once I said everything single memory in detail once, it seemed like enough. I mean, my other friends know me really well too, but I guess you could say that since Skidmore was the first person who seemed to want to understand me for exactly who I was, that’s what she got: the stories of pain and fear that I carried around for so long without telling anyone. The stories that, though they don’t define me, are the truest form of the difficulties I’ve faced that I can possibly show.

Every Scar Has A Story.

4 Jun

“Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls; the most massive characters are seared with scars.”-Khalil Grbran

One of my previous physical therapists, Meredith, shared the above quote with me a few months ago when I was going through a rough patch while writing my memoir, when my head was stuck in the memories that brought me so much physical pain that I wasn’t even sure where to begin writing. Lately I’ve been shying away from working on my memoir because I feel like I need to be able to just sit quietly in the closet with some of my memories that are mentally boxed away before I can shed light on them and begin writing.

I’m a very introspective person, and I’d rather sit outside among the natural beauty around me and reflect on life rather than be surrounded by tons of people. I enjoy time to myself, and since I’ve reached a point in my life where I’m not utterly terrified to reflect on my past, the pain I felt, and the memories that sometimes still haunt me, that’s what I choose to do: revisit the memories, even when they hurt. Occasionally, I wonder why I choose to fill my head with memories that hurt, but then I realize that facing the memories is the only way I’ll be able to accept myself. I kept the memories boxed up for so long, kicking the boxes to the back of my closet and refusing to even think about them.

I’ve been told that the special thing about scars is the story they tell. I hated my scars for such a long time. I never wore shorts even when it was really hot outside because I didn’t like to look down and be reminded of the physical and emotional pain that I went through. So during the summer, you’ll see me in jeans, no matter the temperature. I’d rather wear jeans and feel okay about myself than wear shorts and feel self-conscious. For many years, I couldn’t bring myself to even look at my scars. In the beginning, they scared me. Then, I hated them for being a reminder of my pain. And now, instead of being afraid or angry, I am reminded of not just what I went through….but what I fought through…and what I survived. My scars are a reminder that I survived a level of pain that most people can’t understand. Though my scars will forever be a part of me, they are also a reminder of what I’ve endured and overcome in order to reach a point in my life where I can honestly say that I am happy.

My scars tell their own unique story: the story of my life with Cerebral Palsy, full of every detailed memory during my childhood and teenage years. They hold more emotion than I can even fathom, much of which has been released over time through the process of writing my memoir and having this blog. And even though every day is a little bit easier for me to write what I felt during the years of intense surgeries and intense physical therapy, my scars still remain. Even though my surgery scars tell the first part of my story, the part that involves intense surgeries, 15 years of physical therapy, and many, many tears, they don’t tell the part of the story that I’m living now. I do. I’m writing the story of my life, and I’ve always held the key to unlock the boxes of what I’ve felt. However, it wasn’t until a few months ago that I actually realized I wanted to open up those boxes. But I haven’t just wanted to look at them, I’ve wanted to write them. The pain, the hurt, the strength. Because writing it all down makes it that more real, while also making it easier to be able to say: Yes, I have Cerebral Palsy, and I’m a survivor.

Barbara Kingsolver Quotes.

12 May

Since I’ve been on a recently discovered Barbara Kingsolver kick lately (I just finished The Bean Trees and am now reading Pigs In Heaven), I thought I’d share some Barbara Kingsolver quotes since I haven’t done a quotes post in a while (Quotes obtained from goodreads.com).

  1. “The very least you can do in your life is figure out what you hope for. And the most you can do is live inside that hope. Not admire it from a distance but live right in it, under its roof.”
  2. “Close the door. Write with no one looking over your shoulder. Don’t try to figure out what other people want to hear from you; figure out what you have to say. It’s the one and only thing you have to offer.”
  3. “It’s what you do that makes your soul.”
  4. “What keeps you going isn’t some fine destination but just the road you’re on, and the fact that you know how to drive. You keep your eyes open, you see this damned-to-hell world you got born into, and you ask yourself, ‘What life can I live that will let me breathe in & out and love somebody or something and not run off screaming into the woods?”
  5. “If we can’t, as artists, improve on real life, we should put down our pencils and go bake bread.”
  6. “In a world as wrong as this one, all we can do is make things as right as we can.”
  7. “Morning always comes.”
  8. “Every one of us is called upon, perhaps many times, to start a new life. A frightening diagnosis, a marriage, a move, loss of a job…And onward full-tilt we go, pitched and wrecked and absurdly resolute, driven in spite of everything to make good on a new shore. To be hopeful, to embrace one possibility after another–that is surely the basic instinct…Crying out: High tide! Time to move out into the glorious debris. Time to take this life for what it is.”
  9. “Literature duplicates the experience of living in a way that nothing else can, drawing you so fully into another life that you temporarily forget you have one of your own. That is why you read it, and might even sit up in bed till early dawn, throwing your whole tomorrow out of whack, simply to find out what happens to some people who, you know perfectly well, are made up.”
  10. “It’s surprising how much memory is built around things unnoticed at the time. ”
  11. “To live is to change, to acquire the words of a story, and that is the only celebration we mortals really know.”
  12. “She kept swimming out into life because she hadn’t yet found a rock to stand on.”
  13. “In my own worst seasons I’ve come back from the colorless world of despair by forcing myself to look hard, for a long time, at a single glorious thing: a flame of red geranium outside my bedroom window. And then another: my daughter in a yellow dress. And another: the perfect outline of a full, dark sphere behind the crescent moon. Until I learned to be in love with my life again. Like a stroke victim retraining new parts of the brain to grasp lost skills, I have taught myself joy, over and over again
  14. “Don’t try to figure out what other people want to hear from you; figure out what you have to say.”
  15. “That was when we smelled the rain. It was so strong it seemed like more than just a smell. When we stretched out our hands we could practically feel it rising up from the ground. I don’t know how a person could ever describe that scent.”
  16. “If you ask me, when something extraordinary shows up in your life in the middle of the night, you give it a name and make it the best home you can.”
  17. “It’s one thing to carry your life wherever you go. Another thing to always go looking for it somewhere else.”
  18. “Anybody can get worked up, if they have the intention. It’s peacefulness that is hard to come by on purpose.”
  19. “People read books to escape the uncertainties of life.”
  20. “Don’t wait for the muse. She has a lousy work ethic. Writers just write.”

Happy Saturday everyone! Is there a particular author that has some of your favorite quotes? What are they?

Published Again: The Holstee Site, My Life, is now live!

9 May

Last week I wrote a post about how I wrote a piece for the Holstee site, My Life, about how the Holstee Manifesto has impacted my life: Getting Published For The Third Time?! I’m excited to announce that the My Life site has officially gone live, so all of you can now go read the piece that I wrote for them!

My piece can be found here. All of the pieces written for the site are categorized under Travel, People, Wellness, Work, or Passion. My piece was placed under Wellness, which I feel like fits since I talk about my CP and how the Holstee Manifesto has given me the push I need to continue writing my memoir/share my story with the world. Anyway, last night I spent a good amount of time on the My Life site reading other people’s’ stories, and if you have the time, you should read a few more other than mine.

It’s amazing how people can be in completely different phases in life and having their own unique life story and still be able to say that they were touched by this inspirational poster, the Holstee Manifesto. If anything, the people who wrote the stories for the site have all been impacted by the poster. Whether it has meant discovering their passion, realizing they aren’t enjoying the life they are currently living, or finally deciding to follow their dreams….it’s words that helping them come to that conclusion. I don’t know about you, but I find that really, really cool!

Anyway, check out the piece I wrote for My Life, pass it on to others who you think might enjoy it, and most of all, give me YOUR thoughts on it. I always love hearing what my fellow bloggers and writers have to say.

Find ALL of the stories here, including mine: My Life.

A Writing Day.

28 Mar

There is no greater tragedy than bearing an untold story inside you.-Maya Angelou

And with that, I’m off to work on my book. Happy Wednesday everyone!