I believe in a lot of things. I believe the sun will rise from the horizon and awaken all that was dormant in darkness. I believe the sparkle in the night skies are stars in the universe. I believe in Christmas. I believe in Santa Claus. I also believe in my memoir and my strength in writing it. I believe in its completion. I believe it will be published, one way or perhaps another.
When I was a girl, I learned to believe. During one summer vacation my brother and I tried swimming lessons at Exmoor Country Club where Dad played golf on Saturday mornings. One morning, the sun was warm and bursting out of a deep blue sky when we went to the Club for our lesson. I sat on the rough ground poolside and felt the coarse cement pull at my bottom. Rocking back and forth, the water and I fell into a rhythm. The sun’s reflection off the white cement made me squint hard as I stared into the bright water, watching the ripples inch toward me. I became mesmerized by the visual chant distracting my sense of place as I looked deeper, hypnotic by a bottomless pool. Its depth fooled me. I was under water. My eyes popped open, arms fanned and I kicked my legs. I struggled to reach the top or maybe I was moving deeper toward the bottom. I remember the Catholic school nuns at Holy Cross School telling me to always remain faithful to God, so I yelled at Him, invoking my faith, “Get me out of here. Where do I go?” I prayed to find my way to the surface. I heard my ears fill with water and then I couldn’t hear anymore. And then I found light. The bright beam had guided me to the water’s surface. The light found me. I believed God didn’t let anything bad happen to me.
Since that experience, I reasoned that as long as I believed, I would find my way.
Melissa Heisler, writer of “From Type A to Type Me, challenged my thoughts when she said in a recent newsletter post, “This year I’d like to explore how to make things happen by not making things happen . . . We have devoured the concept of Law of Attraction where we create a vision of what we want and through our focus we make it happen.” She suggests instead of focusing on outside manifestation – writing goals, creating plans, creating vision boards – we instead focus on inside channels – the way to allow our best to come our way. She does continue to suggest ways on how to make things happen without making them happen. I applaud her approach, though for me, without my goals and my plans, I’m an aimless wanderer.
I believe in vision boards. Without my vision board for my memoir, well, it might as well not exist. I have a Facebook page for my memoir, “Under the Birch Tree.” Though clearly the page is meant for a published work, mine is not – yet. My blog, Facebook page, personal essays and any other pieces of my writing pie contribute to my board, my vision of a completed memoir. I can see its cover image, its title (“Under the Birch Tree” is a working title only) and its typeface. I see how its spine looks when stacked in line with its bookmates. I believe in it just as clear as I saw the light guiding me out of the uncomfortable depths of a swimming pool long ago.
I remain a believer; in the power of vision and that I will find my way.