Showing posts with label Annie Dillard. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Annie Dillard. Show all posts

Tuesday, March 30, 2021

What can your memoir teach about looking fear in the face?


“You gain strength, courage, and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face,” said Eleanor Roosevelt. “You must do the thing which you think you cannot do.”

 

Think back. When did you look fear in the face? What can your memoir teach your kids, grandkids, and other readers about doing that thing you thought you could not do?

 

Read the quotes below, slowly, and pause as long as it takes to rediscover personal stories they bring to mind, incidents you might have forgotten long ago.

 

 

The jump is so frightening between where I am and where I want to be…

Because of all I may become

I will

Close my eyes

And leap!

By Mary Anne Radmacher

 

“And the day came 

when the risk to remain tight in a bud 

was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.” 

Anaïs Nin

 

“You can’t test courage cautiously.” 

Annie Dillard

 

“I learned that courage was not the absence of fear, but the triumph over it. The brave man is not he who does not feel afraid, but he who conquers that fear.” Nelson Mandela

 

“Courage is contagious. When a brave young man takes a stand, the spines of others are stiffened.” Billy Graham

 

“Life shrinks or expands in proportion to one’s courage.” Anaïs Nin

 

 

What stories do these quotes bring to mind?

 

What courageous thing have you done? Perhaps when you triumphed over fear, others watched. Or maybe you looked fear in the face and took action even though no one else ever knew about your bravery. Was Anaïs Nin right? Did your life expand in proportion to your courage?

 

On the other hand, perhaps these quotes reminded you of a time you refused to do the courageous thing, when you remained tight in a bud and chose not to blossom. Was Anaïs Nin right? Did your life shrink in proportion to your lack of courage?

 

When did you experience, as Billy Graham observed, that courage is contagious? When did you find courage to take action because you watched someone else take a stand?

 

Looking back now, whether you chose the courageous route or not:

 

  • What did you learn from your choice?
  • How did your experience change you?
  • Did you do things differently in the future?
  • How did God help you? As a result, in what ways did your relationship with Him change?
  • What Bible verses pertain to your story?
  • What valuable lessons can you pass on to others?

 

Write your stories.

Why?

Because your children, grandchildren, and other readers

will face situations in which their courage and faith are wobbly.

Your story could make all the difference in their outcomes.



 

Tuesday, January 5, 2021

On sputtering flames and rekindling sparks: Offering others the light someone gave to you

 

Every once in a while, a passage of Annie Dillard’s makes sense to me. (I usually struggle to grasp much of her writings. How about you?)

 

But recently one of her anecdotes came across loud and clear. In Holy the Firm, she writes about a camping trip, reading at night by candlelight, and watching moths flying into the flames.

 

She writes:

 

“One night. . . a golden female moth, a biggish one with a two-inch wingspan, flapped into the fire, dropped her abdomen into the wet wax, stuck, flamed, frazzled and fried in a second. Her moving wings ignited like tissue paper, enlarging the circle of light in the clearing. . . .

 

“Her six legs clawed, curled, blackened, and ceased, disappearing utterly. And her head jerked in spasms. . . her antennae crisped and burned away. . . . Her head was . . . gone. . . .

 

“All that was left was the glowing horn shell of her abdomen and thorax—a fraying, partially collapsed gold tube jammed upright in the candle’s round pool.

 

“And then this . . . spectacular skeleton, began to act as a wick. She kept burning . . . a saffron-yellow flame. . . . She burned for two hours without changing . . . while I read by her light.” (Annie Dillard, Holy the Firm)

  

That reminds me of Albert Schweitzer’s quote:

 

“At times our own light goes out 

and is rekindled by a spark from another person. 

Each of us has cause to think 

with deep gratitude 

of those who have lighted the flame within us.”

 

Read those two sentences again and pause to think:

 

How many times has your light dimmed and faltered, only to be rekindled by a spark—a light shared—from another person?

 

In what ways did God arrange events to bring that person into your life?

 

Back then, you might not have recognized God’s efforts to bring that person into your life, but it’s not too late!

 

Think about Annie Dillard’s moth. Think of people who are no longer with you but whose lives and light have lived on, guiding you, encouraging and inspiring you to fight the good fight. I think of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., former U.S. Representative John Lewis, Helen Keller, Corrie Ten Boom.

 

I have a hunch that the brightest sparks of light in your life are people who don’t make it into the news or Wikipedia or books. Maybe he or she was:

  • a neighbor,
  • or a grocery clerk,
  • a fireman,
  • a four-year-old,
  • a writer,
  • a parent or grandparent,
  • an athlete
  • a librarian,
  • a nurse,
  • a conference speaker,
  • a coach,
  • your best friend,
  • a new friend,
  • or even a stranger that you never saw again.

 

Who “enlarged the circle of light” available to you? Who “kept burning . . . while you read by her light”?

 

Be deliberate. Make time to remember.

 

Snap the puzzle pieces together. Connect the dots and notice the ways God hovered close, using that person to rekindle your light.

 

Uncover it, even if it takes weeks or months.

 

Here’s a suggestion:

 

Make yourself a working document, a three-column list, one column for your “dark” times, a second column for the people who shared their light, and a third column to make notes about specifics that come to mind.

 

Some, if not all, of those incidents are stories to write in your memoir.

 

When you write, dig deep. And deeper. Refuse to skim over the shallow surface of life.

 

What did you learn about yourself through both the dimming of your light and the rekindling of it?

 

What new and better person did you become?

 

 As a result, how did your life change?

 

What did you learn about God?

 

How did the experience strengthen your faith?

 

How did it inspire you to be a light in other people’s lives?

 

When you write about those experiences, you are saying, like David in Psalm 18:28, “My God turns my darkness into light.”

 

2 Peter 2:9 speaks to those chosen by God, set apart, belonging to God, for a purpose: “that you might declare the praises of him who called you out of darkness into his wonderful light.”

 

Just think!

Through your memoir you can pass on to others

the light someone gave to you!

 

Your story can reach into the lives and hearts and minds

of those whose lights have dimmed and faltered.

 

Your memoir can rekindle a spark

that can grow into bright flames of light.

 

Wow! Just Wow!



 

Tuesday, May 3, 2016

Tuesday Tidbit: Make something happen inside your readers


Here’s your Tuesday Tidbit,
your 15 seconds of inspiration:


While writing and rewriting and editing and polishing your memoir,
keep your readers in mind.
Write for them.

What do readers need from you?
Take in Annie Dillard’s words about what readers need:

“Why are we reading,
 if not in hope of beauty laid bare,
life heightened,
and its deepest mystery probed?...
Why are we reading
if not in hope that the writer will
magnify and dramatize our days,
will illuminate and inspire us with wisdom, courage,
and the possibility of meaning,
and will press upon our minds the deepest mysteries,
so we may feel again their majesty and power?” 


What do you want to make happen 
inside the people who read your memoir?





Thursday, August 15, 2013

What can your memoir teach about looking fear in the face?


"You gain strength, courage, and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face," said Eleanor Roosevelt. "You must do the thing which you think you cannot do." 

Think back. When did you look fear in the face? When did you do the thing you thought you could not do?

And what can your memoir teach your kids, grandkids, and other readers about taking a wild-eyed, white-knuckled leap of faith?

Read the quotes below, slowly, and pause as long as it takes to rediscover personal stories they revive, incidents you might have forgotten long ago.

“The jump is so frightening between where I am and where I want to be…
Because of all I may become
I will
Close my eyes
And leap!”
(Mary Anne Rachmacher)

“And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.” (Anais Nin)

“You can’t test courage cautiously.” (Annie Dillard)

“I learned that courage was not the absence of fear, but the triumph over it. The brave man is not he who does not feel afraid, but he who conquers that fear.” (Nelson Mandela)

“Courage is contagious. When a brave young man takes a stand, the spines of others are stiffened.” (Billy Graham)

“Life shrinks or expands in proportion to one’s courage.” (Anais Nin)


What stories do these quotes bring to mind?

What courageous thing have you done? Perhaps when you triumphed over fear, others watched. Or maybe you looked fear in the face and took action, even though no one else ever knew about your bravery. Was Anais Nin right? Did your life expand in proportion to your courage?

On the other hand, perhaps some of these quotes reminded you of a time you refused to take that leap, when you remained tight in a bud and chose not to blossom. Was Anais Nin right? Did your life shrink in proportion to your lack of courage?

Looking back now, whether you took that courageous leap of faith or not, what did you learn from your choice?

How did God help you? As a result, in what ways did your relationship with God change?

What Bible verses pertain to your story?

How did you change as a result of your experience?

Did you do things differently in the future?

What valuable lessons can you pass on to others?

Write your stories! Why? Because your children, grandchildren, and other readers will face situations in which their courage and faith are wobbly. Your story could make all the difference in their outcomes.