I just finished a memoir called “Paris in Love” by Eloisa James. It was assigned by my book group and not something I would have picked up otherwise. It relates a year of the author’s life when she took a sabbatical in Paris.
What makes it remarkable is that it is made up of little moments, often not more than a few sentences, relating something she experienced. She not only talks about food and art, but the homeless people she encounters, her children’s school experiences, her in-law’s overweight dog and the way light shines through a window. It inspired me to capture more moments in my life. As I’m writing this, I’m remembering a song from “Into the Woods“. Life is more than just moments, but they are to be gathered up and savored. Of the moments that happened today, which ones will I remember a year from now? Probably replacing the flooring in our TV room. But the serious discussion I had with my daughter about what Phineas and Ferb must be like in school (their poor teachers!) should be remembered too.
Writing a journal seems like another chore, a self-indulgent one at that. It can be more than that- it can be art and therapy and self-discovery. Give it a try, and start with a small moment of each day.
