I've longed to see what it was like to have a couple of hours off work while the kids were at school. Take a stab at this whole writing thing and delight in the feeling of coming alive. My car drove the kids to school and I, then, immediately thought about a place I hadn’t been since I was a little girl. This is a place where I would come with my dad on Saturday mornings, on the Saturday mornings when he decided not have Winchell’s donuts waiting for us when we awoke. This is a place that has a distinctly delicious coffee smell and a croissant that has no competition. It IS the essence of all croissants. I remember, just like watching him eat the potato chips that curl on top of themselves, the look of love on my dad’s face when he pulled the doughy center out and let it melt away in his mouth. Pure bliss and joy is what I saw and is the face that floats in my memory.
I sit here and relish in the view out the second story window as I watch cars pass by, knowing that my dad is sitting right across from me. He is leaning back in his chair, sipping his coffee and eyeing the book that I brought with me, Writing Down the Bones, by Natalie Goldberg. He gave me a copy of this book almost twenty years ago and told me that he thought it was a staple for any aspiring writer. I crunched through the first bites of my croissant and began to read. Right when I got to that chewy center, I saw the words, ‘There is no separation between ants and elephants. All boundaries disappear.” In this way, today, this morning, right now, he is speaking to me. “There is no boundary between life and death,” is what he is saying.
I sit here with my dad and eat our favorite croissant and sip on the coffee that kept him coming back weekend after weekend over two decades ago. These walls are talking and they are telling me that this is my time. Despite the passage of time and the wrinkles I see on my face in the reflection of my computer screen, this is the right time, the perfect time. Let the writing begin!
“Cheers to that!” he bellows emphatically, and suddenly I see him drinking a glass of wine.
I sit here and relish in the view out the second story window as I watch cars pass by, knowing that my dad is sitting right across from me. He is leaning back in his chair, sipping his coffee and eyeing the book that I brought with me, Writing Down the Bones, by Natalie Goldberg. He gave me a copy of this book almost twenty years ago and told me that he thought it was a staple for any aspiring writer. I crunched through the first bites of my croissant and began to read. Right when I got to that chewy center, I saw the words, ‘There is no separation between ants and elephants. All boundaries disappear.” In this way, today, this morning, right now, he is speaking to me. “There is no boundary between life and death,” is what he is saying.
I sit here with my dad and eat our favorite croissant and sip on the coffee that kept him coming back weekend after weekend over two decades ago. These walls are talking and they are telling me that this is my time. Despite the passage of time and the wrinkles I see on my face in the reflection of my computer screen, this is the right time, the perfect time. Let the writing begin!
“Cheers to that!” he bellows emphatically, and suddenly I see him drinking a glass of wine.
Yay, Kirsten!! What a great start. Fear be gone; I think you will love this journey - the highs and lows, the writing and revealing, the way you'll reach others.
ReplyDeleteI just had someone comment on my blog yesterday that it felt like I was channeling my dad in my latest post. The highest compliment, really - and I suspect your dad will come through you, too. Think how proud he must be to be sitting across from you AND watching over you as the words tumble out and you kick fear in teeth. I'm raising my glass, too.
You, my friend, are a the wheel of a ship about to set sail on a fantastical adventure. I am really looking forward to your new perspective on the shore, as you view it from the ocean. This is such perfection for you. I'm so happy that you have been so receptive to this new calling and to your dad's guidance. Cheers, my sister!
ReplyDeleteLove.
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