Writing Our Story

I had a great anniversary weekend with my partner.  I cut and pasted excerpts from my journals over the year of our encounters together (a practice I've done with different people or institutions over the years).  I selected pieces that: 

• celebrate wonderful moments
• share insights and lessons I’ve learned about my personal growth through patters I want to transform
• mark moments of having moved together through challenge
• illustrate early fears for which there was clear evidence of evolution by the end of the year.  

I sometimes use my journal to make sense out of the hardest moments and I didn’t focus on that.  I focused much more celebration than problem exploration.  I wanted to promote a sense of comfort and confidence.  I see this not as sugar-coating or sticking our heads in the sand, but rather taking into account the malleability of memory in order to proactively choose, promote and actualize a realistic and ambitious vision of the life we are creating together.  This practice reinforced to me the way in which we are the authors of our lives.

Saturday morning, after I went outside to get something: 

Me “You have to go out and see the snow.” 

Her: “I can see it from the window.”

I convinced her and we had a pleasant walk.  We each grabbed a banana for the road.  After some time, she expressed her first moment of hunger and fatigue.  I wanted us to continue up a hill to the end, which was near.  She asked again and we turned around.  The woods were magical and beautiful with freshly fallen snow, which also slowed down our feet dragging along.  She was excited to find a vast array of horse tails. We both started to feel hungry, tired week. 

This was the perfect anniversary activity because when things turned out much more difficult than we expected, we maintained a sense of humor and did our bests to support each other and take care of ourselves – ultimately returning home, scarfing some food and dozing off spooning together for a nap – a rare accomplishment for both of our under-slept bodies. 

After that, I read excerpts from my journals.  It was touching to remember the points of growth, vulnerability, enjoyment and care.