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!

 

December’s details for your memoir: touch and taste

If you want readers to enjoy our stories—and keep reading them—use sensory details to add interest and texture to your December stories.  

In recent blog posts we considered sight, smell, and sound.*

Today we’ll think about touch and taste.

Helen Keller said: 

 

“I feel the delicate symmetry of a leaf. I pass my hands lovingly about the smooth skin of a silver birch, or the rough shaggy bark of a pine…. I feel the delightful, velvety texture of a flower, and discover its remarkable convolutions.… I place my hand gently on a small tree and feel the happy quiver of a bird in full song….” (emphasis mine)

If you write a story set on the equator, December will feel different from a story set in Alaska. Describe the feel of running across white powder sand on the seashore. Capture the feel of a scratchy wool scarf around your neck and icicles hanging from your beard.

Also write taste into your stories. For some of you, December flavors include peppermint candy canes and mincemeat pie.

My Scandinavian friends' favorite flavors include lefse, herring, salmon, and lutfisk.

Hanukkah meals involve potato latkes and other dishes cooked in oil as a reminder of the holiday's miracle.

What tastes and flavors can you describe in your December stories?

“Just like the Five Ws are pathways for information, the Five Senses generate details. We all begin with our eyes, I think, but we should move quickly to our ears and our noses. Rick Bragg wrote a paragraph about a state fair in West Virginia and, I swear, he had all the senses covered, and when I closed my eyes I could taste the funnel cake, and smell the sausage and peppers, and see the flashing of neon, and feel the stuffed toys.…

“… It's crucial that the focus drive the details. By that I mean that you don't include the detail of someone's messy hair unless it has something directly to do with your story (she ran a marathon while pregnant).”  (Roy Peter Clark,* emphasis mine)

“Detail makes the difference between

boring and terrific writing.

It’s the difference between

a pencil sketch and a lush oil painting.

As a writer, words are your paint. Use all the colors.”

(Rhys Alexander, Writing Gooder)

Review previous posts (links below)* and write sensory details into your December stories: Invite readers to see, smell, hear, feel, and taste what you experienced.

*References and links:

Sight,

http://spiritualmemoirs101.blogspot.com/2011/12/its-beginning-to-look-lot-like.html

Sight, smell, and sound,

http://spiritualmemoirs101.blogspot.com/2011/12/decembers-details-for-your-memoir.html

December details for your memoir,

http://spiritualmemoirs101.blogspot.com/2011/12/decembers-details-for-your-memoir.html

Roy Peter Clark on Facebook live chat,

http://www.poynter.org/how-tos/newsgathering-storytelling/writing-tools/152709/live-chat-today-how-to-capture-more-scenes-details-dialogue-when-reporting