Daily writing prompt

The most important invention in your lifetime is…

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Been ruminating about this for much of the day. And I don’t even know if my response qualifies as an answer to the question. Well….

I really cannot pinpoint one in my lifetime. So lets go with this set: pen and paper. Oh, and enevlope. Nothing beats sharing your thoughts, support, gratitude, forgiveness and love as expressed on a hand written letter or note.

A note or letter to a team member. Customer. Parent. Friend. Stranger, Child. Sibling. Family. THE love of your life.

There is just something about a pen and paper that draws you fully in. It just comes out better than words. It captures a deep part of you that touches another in a lasting way. Opening them up so as to add your piece within them.

Conversations are built the same way. Expression, emotion, empathy, energy, embarrassment, entertainment that become a part of your life, through the spoken word. Moments that remain for the rest of your days.

And yet, when a moment apart, alone and affirming is captured on paper by pen, it is truly permanent. An altogether different manner of expression and connection. True conversations aren’t just heard, they are felt. The written word is absorbed and assimilated.

And because it can be physically given, that gift can be received over and over.

Unfolded, read, refolded, tucked into envelope, placed in it assigned space.

Again.

Again.

And again.

Forever.

Daily writing prompt

Describe your most ideal day from beginning to end.

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As you may have gathered from my prior prompts and other versions of spontaneity, lists, qualifying, ranking and the like don’t really jive with my modus operandi. Maybe once before they may have ensconced themselves into a preeminence of some fashion.

But now, I cannot say for sure. With things still in process within, perspectives shift. What I want to experience and how I want to feel it are being guided differently. I let go of the wheel. And now, I just want to go with the flow.

For example, it is about 7:13 AM here in Mequon. I am parked at the east end of the kitchen table, watching one of those misting snow falls. A Wisonsin Februrary equivalent of a drizzle. As I rolled out the garbage cans, I can attest that it definitely sounded like that. And it almost smelled like it too. That one of a kind scent which accompanies the light rain of spring. Summer. Or fall. It is only gonna last an hour or so, as the experts claim.

No matter. I am gonna soak it all in. Maybe I will be lucky enough to see Barb and little Chloe Deere meander across the back yard. Cody Golden will alert me if I get distracted here.

So if things have already begun as such, anything more is purely a blessing.

Anything less? Well, look at the start. Already ideal.

And tomorrow?

Well, if I am granted that one too, sounds pretty ideal to me.

How ’bout you?