Posted on

Slowing Down. Paying Attention. Taking Note

_DSC7685I post here every Wednesday. Mostly about writing and life and sometimes about the way one bleeds into the other.

I post religiously. If only to keep my mind on the stories and my hands to the page.

Some weeks though, like this week, it seems silly to blog. Catching news clips on the earthquake in Nepal, reading articles about the unrest in Baltimore…to blog about everyday life and writing feels almost irreverent.

But in the midst of turmoil, there is a place for conversation on everyday living.

Last Saturday, I invited Lisa Rivero to visit with the writers at Harwood Place and speak about a project she’s been working on: transcribing the journals of her great aunt Harriet Whitcher into what she calls, The Hattie Diaries.

Hattie Whitcher 1881-1958
Hattie Whitcher 1881-1958

Hattie Whitcher is not a relative Lisa ever met in person but one she has come to know and appreciate through the journals Hattie left behind: ledgers and spiral-bound notebooks filled with daily entries that span over 37 years. That’s a stack of 70 books, handwritten in ink (and with very few mistakes)!

In her diaries (addressed to no one in particular), Hattie writes about daily life on the Great Plains from 1920-1957. At first it might seem trivial. How important are daily observations of farm life or reports on the South Dakota winds during times of the Depression or the War?

Here’s how. In her diaries, notes about a shift in the air mark a change in more than just weather. The desription of how a calf takes its first meal strikes the page with tenderness and maybe even grief. A July celebration in the middle of the Depression goes against all expectations and fills the day with joy and hope.

You might miss some of these undertones with first glance at Hattie’s journals; but as Lisa digs deeper into their pages, she sees more. With skill and creativity, she transcribes these handwritten entries into digital form, turning them into poems, videos, and flash narratives. She breathes new life into one woman’s past.

Go read some of Lisa’s work. Really. These pieces aren’t long, but they are powerful. And by presenting Hattie Whitcher’s writings in a new platform, Lisa offers readers a gift: lessons in slowing down, paying attention, and taking note.

Reminders that life is in the details, however simple.

Posted on

Sometimes the words are just meant for me.

I’ve been sitting and studying the potential of this post for the last two hours. I had all sorts of ideas, inspired by an essay I read from Nathan Evans at Hippocampus Magazine.

You should read it.

He talks about first kisses, and the unexpected effects. And, deep in the middle of his essay is a message about the sweet taste of love.

I thought I’d write about my unexpected firsts, about how love came up on me all quiet and sneaky. And how it still comes, in waves.

But the lines read unfinished.
And raw.
And were maybe a study, in events, meant only for me.

You know?

Sometimes when we write, it’s because we have to see the words fall onto the screen, or onto the paper, in a comprehensible way so that our mind really gets it — whatever “it” is, that critical message we’ve been missing for weeks or months on end.

So, the early drafts of this post were an exercise in listening and understanding, and what the last two hours of writing yielded was a gift: that often, the quiet and profound revelations in life show up in unexpected places, even (and especially) when I’m not paying attention.

Where did your writing take you this week?