I WANT TO LIVE WHERE EVERYDAY THERE'S TIME FOR CREATIVITY

One time our daughter was reading her toddler a favorite book.  It might have been The Velveteen Rabbit or that wonderful story about Julius the pig who comes to stay with Maya and her family.  Anyway, what he said was, "I want to live in this book."  The same boy, a year later, was with me at a production of Peter Pan where Peter and the children flew on aerial silks across the stage.  He jumped out of his seat and said, "I want to live up there."  I could see what he meant; swinging with taut arms and legs, high up on those silks would be a great place to live.  

Woody Allen once wrote a quirky piece called "The Kugelmass Episode," about a man who by some strange means ends up living in the novel Emma Bovary.  Readers find him there, disrupting the action.  Notwithstanding Allen himself, I like the story.   

Then I picked up the newest bella GRACE  (bellagracemagazine.com) and read an article by Jessica Monet where she wrote, "I want to live in new books with decorative hardcovers and textured pages."  When I was in 5th grade I would have picked Gone with the Wind to live in.  Missing some of the fine points, I pretty much adored Rhett Butler as the first hero with sex appeal I had encountered. 

I identify with a few of the little things Jessica Monet wants to "live in." 

Cedars in the Meadow, Lulu intrigued 

"The joy of coming across a deer on a hike" is one; deer sleep under the cedars in our meadow.  As the sun rises they meander past our windows into the deeper woods.  Once at dusk a fawn came so close I stopped breathing.  "[T]he enthrallment of exploring dusty, forgotten antique stores," is another.  The Tar-Heel Antique Fair in tiny Efland, North Carolina (1.8 sq. miles, pop. 668) was one of my first post-vaccine experiences.  

So what do you want to live in?  I quickly jotted a list.  I want to live in the hearts of those I love and care for.  I want to live in the mind of God.  I want to live in the newness of every season as it arrives: spring mornings, summer nights, fall days and winter afternoons.  Just these words call up your own images, don't they?  

I want to live in my home and the homes of dear friends.  In my memories, as difficult as some are.  And hopefully, if I've helped someone along the way, in their memory too.  I want to live where trauma fades, where acceptance comforts, where thoughts settle.  Where everyday there's time for creativity. . . .  And more . . . and more . . . .

Where does this idea take you?