I flew from Europe to Asia. I walked a lot and sat in meetings a lot. I flew from Asia to Europe. The weather is cooler here.
Along the way I listened and watched quite a few stories. I watched movies on the plane rides. I read some. I talked with other passengers some. I talked with other sojourners about their lives in an around peoples who don’t believe and some who do and amazing stories of lots of people who do. Mainly, just lots of stories.
What stood out to me was how much non-story goes on between story bits. Get up, fuel up, busy up, wind down, lay down, start again… Not worth detailing. Just life. I don’t do so well with those bits. I get impatient for the next story bit and don’t know what to say or do while… life just fumbles forward. If I let it get to me, I feel the dread of despair “There is no Story!!” That makes me panic (but quietly). But then I hear edited bits “and then…”; suddenly a story is stitched together out of selected bits among the cycling routines and shuffling and I sometimes get inspired. Then I am all cheerful and reflective and hopeful, and even the non-story bits seem alive with possibility. Story bits don’t always stand out at the time, they have to be selected and stitched, and then they are story bits.
So now it is cool and a bit damp from fresh rain. There are all varieties of bits waiting to be done. I am going to decide to walk into them hoping that enough will be chosen some day, to be stitched into a story. Not knowing which bits will qualify, I think I will try and be attentive to the possibilities. This was a nice bit. Maybe it’ll get stitched in some time.