I was researching the word storyteller the other day and found that We the Writers of Mother Earth are regarded as both raconteurs and fibbers and liars. Well, I was deeply offended! In fact, I consider each word I write to carry with it my intention to speak to the essence of its reader.
Words, in any language, can benefit or create fear or destroy. Storytellers on social media are fully engaged in a war of words that include their credentials to impart they are correct in whatever they print. Newspapers and magazines and mailings arrive in our mailboxes or on our doorsteps. These are to enlighten us on whom or what to vote for. What is best for us to eat or buy and where. Yet, not many flyers remind us to look at a cloud or stop to listen to our child’s laughter or call an elder parent or just take a breath.
There are storylines surrounded by all that we see and all that we neglect to notice. As a writer I hope to always notice the moment when storytelling first begins. And, yes, “How Angels Fly” is my devotion to this intention.
Long after writing my first version of this short story, I’ve still not settled on whether the storytelling is for the earth child or the angel or we who are no longer either. Yet, our link in the story is both ethereal and mortal and what happens to one is experienced by the other.
“The Archangels, GOD’s Chief Seraphs, are given HIS CALL to assemble Guardian Angels numbers 103 through 130; celebrated in Heaven as GAs. Without delay the GAs gather and flutter about as they await the call. Their wings create a torrent of air that causes the smallest among them to cast about as they fight to maintain their position in the flock. Hovering outside the cluster, imperfect wings and all, is GA~105. His thought is to wonder why an inept novice like himself has been included in God’s Call…”
Dear Reader: This story is an invitation to discover your Heaven and Earth!
YOU might ask—I certainly would—why I leave an open-ended title in most of my blogs. It’s because I don’t know what is to come until I begin to write.
You see, writing is an art no less and no more than wonder or thought. All humankind FEELS their healing thoughts and they wonder at the mystery of thinking them—that is until others proclaim we should think differently—Like Them.
Did our thoughts then change? Throughout history that answer depended on the consequence placed on speaking for or against—Like Them.
My hope is that my sisters and brothers throughout our Earth held in time without end each healing thought and their wonder at the mystery of thinking it! For in this case: AND, THEN WE ARE.
Since my previous blog was about Life Stories I decided to follow up with a few more thoughts I have on the subject of the story of our life. As my title says—not implies—each of us write our life story from beginning to end by every action we take; or don’t take.
LISTED are life story ingredients and—like making a salad—essential to humankind’s wakefulness as we each write Our Story: conviction; listening; trust; inklings; soul-related; good & evil; discernment; consistency; breath; voice… And, our heartfelt desires.
The hidden notes in a completed salad are in the dressing we savor as we take our first bite. A reminder of the final sacred ingredient: living in the moment.
Every writer, regardless of genre, comes to life when a voice from the ether of silence whispers, “I need you.” Some writers hear a phrase or see a billboard and ask: “How can I utilize that in my next editorial piece?” A child screams with joy or fear and we ask why? Some of us read a book and steal (all right, borrow) a phrase or a character trait. We wrestle with a word until it either floats away or comes fully to form.
So, why do we write, exactly? I think it’s a need in the form of a want that begins the journey. And, it is the creative, in all its forms, that force us to declare: “Here I go!” I love this last phrase because I never know where “…go” will take me. That path is the responsibility of the words swirling and forming in my head that direct my fingers onto a keyboard.
In order to edify myself, and you if you so choose, I searched the thesaurus for the word WRITER. There are over sixty-seven words listed that describe us. Here are a few less familiar monikers: abstracter; compiler; cyberpunk; diarist; gagster; ghost; librettist; litterateur; pamphleteer; polemist; scenarist; tragedian, and word-painter.
The last name on the list, word-painter, I believe describes us, perfectly. For we no more and no less than any artist, meticulously pick our canvas and paint our narrative in order to capture the mind’s eye of our readers.