When I was growing up, we had some relatives I’d see about once a year. Without fail, every year, they’d be shocked about how much I’d grown.
“You’re in eighth grade already?!” they’d say, looking around for another adult to share this revelation with. “How is that possible? Just yesterday you were in diapers!”
I’d sass back with “Well, pay attention!” then run off to play in the sprinkler, thinking Geez, adults are dumb.
Now I am that dumb adult. Whenever I see my friends’ kids, in pictures or in real life, I can’t help but say “How are you 5 already? You’re ELEVEN? My gosh, just yesterday…”
While thinking: If she’s eleven, I’m… !!!
Now I know those relatives were not marveling at my age.
They were marveling at their own.
*
Surprise over time passing sounds like a cliche when you say it in general terms – even if the feeling underneath it is personal and profound.
Strangely, a lot of life’s lessons are this way.
They hit us like a tidal wave with their profoundness. Or maybe they drip-drip-drip into our consciousness like erosion, slowly, over time.
But when we try to verbalize them, we end up saying things like “The grass is greener on the other side.”
Or “Time really flies!”
They sound surface-y and worn. A reader’s eyes gloss over them.
But beneath them, within them, is a fount of truth, of real-life experience, of awe.
*
So what do you do when you run into this? How do you write about profound truths, without sounding like a bumper sticker?
You write about your lived experience.
You give sensory details. What you were doing that led you to this realization, who was there, what it felt like, smelled like, sounded like.
And you go into that place inside your body where your consciousness lies, where your memory lives – not the VHS tapes you’ve recorded and stored in your brain, but the body’s memory.
And you ask it: What was that really like?
You open up to the experience before words got pasted onto it.
You allow the essence of the experience to fill you.
And then you put that on paper.*

If you need some guidance in how to do this, or you want some accountability, structure, and professional advice while you do, you may want to work with a book coach. Send me a message using the form below and we can get started.
*This gets easier with practice, by the way. If it sounds overly abstract, then I definitely recommend working with someone or doing a guided meditation to begin to practice it.
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Photo credit: Alexander Drummer on Pexels.


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