Telling Stories

It’s hard not to get dragged down by the seemingly endless roller coaster ride we’ve been on.

Some days are better than others and I find that keeping my list of things to do long, that even though I don’t finish the list, at least I’m accomplishing something.

Somewhere yesterday the depression set in as it seems to do every few days. I had decided I needed to focus on doing things outside my office, those little things that pile up on the kitchen counter or in the laundry room, the ones that don’t take long to do, but we constantly walk by and say, “I’ll do that later.” And yet we don’t. Yes, those things.

I did them and then I settled into reading the multiple extra newspapers our very kind newspaper lady has been bringing me– while we subscribe two two newspapers, she brings me the day or two old returns for two other newspapers that are in the recycling bin. But I had gotten behind doing my sewing so I sat down to read them.

It was there that I found out that director Joel Schumacher had died (how did I not know this??) and the man who wrote the screenplay for “The Great Santini.” I also ready obituaries and stories about people I’d never heard of, many who rose above lives started with immigrant parents and somehow ended up in Los Angeles at least for a few years. There were threads in these stories– garment workers, the death of a parent.

I found myself drawn back to the one thing that probably makes me happiest inside, telling stories. It’s telling the stories in my head, of people whose lives are influenced by those I have read about. It was that feeling that brought me out of my passing depression as I was knocked on the head once again for my true calling in this life.

Sometimes in my frustration with the chaos in the world I start to veer a bit from my journey. But. thankfully, I am aware enough that it pulls me back quickly.