I Remember

Writers and teachers of writing are divided in their opinion about use of writing prompts. Some like them, and some do not.

I do.

At the recent Adirondack Mountain Retreat, Irene Sherlock invited us to read a brief piece about remembering and then to write a bit on the subject of our own memories. I had said in an earlier conversation that I don't have a lot of memories, but, amazingly, a piece of writing appeared on my computer screen that seemed like the beginning of a memoir I had never intended to write, something that was better than I had thought I could write, on that topic, anyway.

Where do those words come from? What vein do writing prompts tap into that yields such rich ore? Yes, I like prompts; I may have to make up my own as I go prospecting for new material.

And yes, I do remember. I remember more than I thought.

This week my head is full of memories of the retreat and of the people who made the hours dance and the days sing. The camaraderie, the laughter, the tears--we shared so much, and virtual strangers at that. The instruction and gentle nudging from Irene as we tried our wings on new projects strengthened us and moved our work forward. It was a wonderful four days.

I remember, and I smile.