I dug out my tote of old photographs (a box to which my response has long been one of these days I need to scan these photos). Fifteen minutes quickly turned into an hour of flipping through images. Though, it was not the shuffling of paper film that drew me in. It was the pleasure of being immersed in my history.
Early this morning, I finished Paper Things by Jennifer Richard Jacobson. It was a quiet story about a girl, Ari, who learns about herself--her history, who she is now, and who she wants to become--when she finds herself unexpectedly homeless. Just like Jacobson's As Small As An Elephant, it is filled with gem-like lines and special moments. As Ari begins to realize her story is worth sharing, she says, "...I realize that I don't have to be ashamed of my truth." This is a message that, even as a grown-up, I cannot hear too often: my story matters, my truth is worth sharing.
Sometimes the universe has this way of giving us just what we need at just the right moment. I have been absent from this blog recently. More importantly, I have been absent from my own writing life. My photographs and Jacobson's words reminded me this weekend that I am made up of stories--stories I've shared and stories waiting to be shared.