creative life writing

I love the gift my mom wants from me for Christmas.

My mom loves to write. I should qualify that: my mom loves to write creatively. I think I needed to qualify that because I like to write also as long as I can write what I want to say, and not write about something I don't care much about. I am my mother's boy, after all.

My mom wants playlists of music with different styles to serve as background music to help inspire her write in different tones and moods.

I wonder what music is playing to the writing of my own life's story.

I was riding home from Sundance today, marveling at the snowy, majestic scenery through the canyon, and couldn't help but realize that the music we were listening to was feeding my emotions and patterns of thought.

Going through the canyon reminds me how small I am. When I look at the top of mountains, they're so much larger than I, I feel like I'm not moving at all. Sometimes I wonder if God made these of such grandeur to remind me that I have something great to look forward to.

Actually, better said, that I have something to work towards.

It reminds me that no matter how many mistakes I make, there's forgiveness if I look for it.

And I make a lot of mistakes. Ones that I know better not to make. Ones that I've made before and fear too much to make them again. Fear strong enough to drive me to commit other errors. And it starts again. And only I and the Lord seem to understand it. And I have a hard time with that.

I recently had a friend I haven't talked to in so many years add me on Facebook. We spent so much time together when I was younger, and he moved away one day and I think I saw him maybe one more time in my life. His lifestyle changed, and so did mine. I wouldn't even say we have much in common now. Except for that time we spent together before the road forked. That's an important time.

Driving through the canyon, I realize how small I am, how much other life is going on around me, and how much I have to work towards. If I'm not careful, it makes me think that I'm insignificant. Lately, I haven't been careful.

I haven't been careful with priorities. I haven't been careful with time. I haven't been careful with assumptions. I haven't been careful with perceptions. I haven't been careful with hypocrisy.

I haven't been careful with great opportunities.

One of the things I most dislike experiencing is learning the hard way lessons I've already learned.

I suppose we all feel it sometimes.

The playlist inspiring the writing of my life's story right now? Something that is wise beyond my years, for sure.



There was a boy
A very strange enchanted boy
They say he wandered very far, very far
Over land and sea
A little shy
And sad of eye
But very wise
Was he

And then one day
A magic day he passed my way
And while we spoke of many things, fools and kings
This he said to me

"The greatest thing
You'll ever learn
Is just to love
And be loved
In return"