The Story

Recently I was speaking with someone about the memoir I am working on and she spoke six words that I cannot get out of my mind.

“The story is in your body.”

The fact that those words play over and over again in my mind tell me that there is something there I need to pay attention to.  What does it mean? 

Is the story in my twisted back, still bent from scoliosis despite surgery when I was younger?

Is it in the deep and intense pain I felt first in my upper arms, then throughout my body, for which there has never been lasting relief?

Perhaps it is in my heart; perhaps it is in the virtual body of my emotions.  Is it tucked beneath stifled feelings or forgotten dreams?

Do the relentless hot flashes that keep me awake at night hold the key to the story?

Is the story hidden within the deepening wrinkles on my face, or in my sagging eyelids, or perhaps in the dark circles beneath my eyes?

Maybe the story is in all of these things; it could be in none of these things. The one thing I know for sure is that it is only in telling it that I will find out. 

So, I write.


I’m a writer, reader, and creative. I thought by now I’d have things figured out, but I keep coming up with more questions. I think that’s okay. I’m here most mornings pondering ordinary things and the thin places where faith intersects.
1 comment
  1. I think we all carry our stories in our bodies. Wonder what story my body is telling??

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