Wednesday, January 26, 2011


I started this journey because I was deeply distrubed that I could not remember much about my life.
In Don Miller's book, A Million Miles
he says that (and I paraphrase) if we can't remember much about our lives, then maybe it's because we didn't do anything memorable.

I just had an amazing memory.
The post prior to this, Scenemaking Cracking Open
seemed too difficult for me. I wasn't looking forward to trying the exercise. I even struggled to get a phrase from which to work.
But I wrote. I wrote about one of my strongest childhood memories. My fingers typed away as I recalled the self soothing technique I developed as a child. My house. My bedroom. How it felt to lay in my bed. All the books I read there.
It's a silly story about my green house, green shag carpet and green traffic lights. It's a strong story that evoked tears. I felt powerful as I remembered. I closed my eyes and imagined. I could see that same view. It was amazing.
It made me feel so good.
Thanks, Bill Roorbach.
I don't know if I even made a good scene. I know I loved the way I tried.

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