How Long Will Your Words Last?

Who would expect a diary to last hundreds of years? Someone told me a few years ago about conversion journals written by Quaker women as part of what might be called an initiation into the faith. If my source was correct, the women were required to keep these diaries, presumably to demonstrate the strength of their faith and their worthiness to be accepted as members of the Religious Society of Friends.

The Lippincott tribe is descended from Quaker ancestors Richard and Abigail Lippincott, who arrived in the colonies in the mid-1500s seeking relief from persecution by the Church of England. A few years ago my husband received a copy of the Quaker marriage certificate of his grandfather’s great-grandparents, signed by everyone who witnessed the ceremony. He decided to donate this historic document to the Special Collections kept by Haverford College. During a recent visit to deliver the document, I asked to see some of these women’s conversion diaries. Unfortunately the collection includes nothing specifically identified as a conversion diary is included in the collection, but they do have a sizeable collection of other journals. I scanned the list and found a promising volume written by Anna. I’m chagrinned to realize I neglected to note her last name or the dates of the diary, but it was referenced as a “spiritual diary” and I do know that it dates to pre-Revolutionary times, so it’s about 250 years old. 

With a bit of ceremony, after I completed the formal registration and request, the volume was brought forth from it’s protected location and placed on green velvet-covered foam blocks that positioned it for reading.

“Don’t worry about harming it,” the librarian told me. “It’s sturdier than it looks.” He chilled my blood by picking it up and flexing the spine to demonstrate. The volume consists of hand sewn signatures. I couldn’t tell for sure how they were held together, because the spine was covered, but many seemed quite loose. The pages felt a bit slick, due to an invisible layer of ultra-sheer silk applied to protect them and avert further aging damage.

The text was challenging to read, written in flowery old script. Anna was thrifty with her paper. She used small handwriting and close spacing between lines, further complicating the reading by our eyes, unaccustomed to her style. Occasional ink blots didn’t help.

How I would have loved to sit there for a week and deeply ponder her words, puzzling out obscure ones and ruminating on meanings to plunge into her world. Unfortunately, our time was limited, and I had to make do with skimming several pages while my husband poured over Minutes of Cropwell meeting where his ancestors played leading roles. What I found was a powerful testament of faith, reminding me of the first four lines of the magnificat or Song of Mary:

My soul doth magnify the Lord. And my spirit hath rejoiced in God my Saviour. Because he hath regarded the humility of his handmaid; for behold from henceforth all generations shall call me blessed.—Luke 1:46-47

Such flowery, passionate language surprised me, coming from a devoted member of a sect traditionally known for stoicism.  Perhaps that element of surprise underlines the importance of this document. It challenges me to revisit assumptions. It informs me more accurately of how things really were. And isn’t that exactly what most of us hope our words will do? Set the record straight at some future time and inspire others to expand understanding?

That old diary and the Meeting Minutes are sturdy. Even without preservation they would probably remain legible and valuable for at least another century. Will our digital output endure as long? I can’t imagine it will. I’m reminded that a copy or few, printed in durable ink on acid-free paper, will increase their odds of long-term survival. Unless you plan to burn your journals, use archival quality volumes to  create a legacy for centuries to come.

Write now: make a plan for preserving print copies of at least your most important stories. Look for sources of acid-free archival quality journals. Then write something something that will set a record straight about your life or family.

Let Peace Begin With Me

Let There be Peace on Earth, performed by the Empire State Youth Orchestra and Chorale

Each time I pick up the paper, listen to the radio, or catch the news on the web or TV, it seems the world is besieged with violence, from my local community up to the global level. From hateful name-calling and accusations to death and bombing threats, it all breaks my heart.

As I pondered the dire mess and state of the world, I remembered this song that has lived in my heart for decades. I remembered the key message: LET IT BEGIN WITH ME! How can I play a larger part, I wondered. What else can I do or say? I can go to local Council meetings and speak, but what more?

Of course I know the answer. I can write! I can use the power of story in so many ways. For those who care to join me, let me list some ways:

Journal out fear and other ugly thoughts. Many years ago I began turning to writing to dig deeply into attitudes, beliefs and reactions to even small things. I ask myself questions, like “Is this true?” “How else can I look at this situation?” “What part might I have played in causing this situation?” “What might it look like to (fill in the blank with a person, possible action or other change)?” “What can I do to change this situation?” Write from a perspective of empathy and compassion, striving to build bridges across differences.

I don’t know who else this has affected, but I’m a happier, more confident person with a brighter outlook on life than I used to be, and that says something. At least my internal world is more calm and peaceful.

Write about times you faced conflict. Story is a powerful thing. It tends to snap the issues into focus. Whether you were the victim, hero, or stayed on the sidelines, write stories about your experience with conflict. These stories may involve personal relationships,  work situations, community affairs, or how you were affected by national and international events like wars.

Write the story for yourself first. Include your fears, your pain, your hopes and dreams for the situation. Include some of the elements from those journaling suggestions, but put this in story form rather than random rawness. Get it all down. Let it sit awhile. Then decide if it’s one you want to keep private or share with family, friends, or the world. You’ll benefit from writing it, and probably feel more peaceful, whatever level of sharing you choose.

Write healing stories and letters. Sherrey Meyer has a lot to say on this topic. Her blog, Healing by Writing includes a page with “Letters to Mama.” These are letters Sherrey has written to her deceased mother as a path to personal healing from a painful girlhood and to allow her “childhood voice” to be heard. These letters are an important component of her memoir-in-progress.

Her letters will not be read by the person she wrote them to. We can also write healing letters, perhaps letters of explanation and/or apology, that can be read and make a difference.

Write happy endings. This is an odd suggestion in a life writing blog, because it sounds like creative fiction. But oddly enough, in my experience, writing stories like this has an uncanny way of making them happen. Sages through the ages have emphasized the value of visualization, and what better way to focus visualization than writing stories?

These are just a few of the channels we can use to write stories that can help peace “being with me” and ripple out into the larger world.

Write now: Write a piece of peace. So some journaling about unpeaceful thoughts you are having. Write a story about conflict. Please join me in using your memory and fingers to let peace begin with you.

Writing Prompts Aren’t Just for Beginners

No matter how long we’ve been writing, free writing, writing practice, and writing prompts remain a powerful source of inspiration. Some prompts come from books, some from websites, some from writing groups or friends, but some of the most important come from our thoughts. I was reminded of this when I found the following email snippet from my writing buddy, JS:

I was thinking last night about shaving and decided I’d write a little bit about it. I thought maybe I’d write about ten sentences. As soon as I started writing, I remembered all sorts of things I hadn’t thought about for years. I remembered how my father used to use his shaving brush to stir up some lather in his mug of shaving soap. He’d lather me and let me pretend to shave with a bladeless razor. I remembered starting shave for real, lots of different kinds of razors, blades and electric, and barbers I’ve gone to, and how they nearly shaved my head in the Army, and all that stuff. I wrote for nearly and hour and really had fun with it. There’ some great story starts in that mess. 

This email snippet also reminded me that listening to those tiny whispers when we start thinking about “the olden days” can yield fascinating stories. It’s also great sport, like having a family reunion with memories and you get to tell al the stories. It can also lead to fame, if not fortune. JS lives in a retirement community that publishes an occasional anthology of poems, pictures and pieces of work written by residents. He submitted an essay based on the ramblings in that memory dump. He’s become a local celebrity there and heard lots of shaving jokes and stories for some time after his essay appeared.

Snippets like his are rewarding for several reasons:

• Without his essay, his great-grandchildren may never know about shaving mugs and brushes and blades that were sharpened for reuse.
• Writing about memories like these helps focus on them and renews a sense of connection with the past.
• Collecting a number of related memories can help you see patterns and connections you never noticed, sometimes solving several minor mysteries of life.
• Sharing memory stories builds community.
• It’s fun!

We all have little daily things that bring back memories. My kitchen is haunted with memories. Two of my three cast iron skillets were wedding gifts from my grandmother. I’ve used them nearly every day for over fifty years now and thought of her nearly every time I pull one out. I have pie plates, tea strainers and other gizmos of my mothers. Peeling potatoes or carrots, making meatloaf or enchiladas, even filling the sink with soapy water brings back memories. Some of them go back to childhood, some are more recent.

I’ve written about some. After reading that email from JS, I’m motivated to write more about daily life, probably contrasting then and now.

In fact, I just stopped and filled a long Evernote with prompts that sprang to mind that I can use some morning soon when I sit down to journal and inspiration has run dry. That happens.

Write now: Call up a recent memory of times past and things you used to do. Jot down a few key concepts, then spend ten minutes (more if you get into the swing of things and don’t want to stop) and write about one of them. Start paying attention to those mental riffs and capture some writing prompts. Go back over your free-writing material and find some juicy material to develop into an essay or story.  

Photo adapted from work published by Phyllis Buchanan under a Creative Commons license.