Since the moment my foot struck the cautiously navigable stones here, a beating in my chest about #legacy continues. My calling as a #journal coach for the purposes of awareness, wellness, plenty and peace was made concrete during this visit. I feel pressed to create an urgency for the discovery of your stories, and the intentional literary legacy that your life and your life's work represents.
I am alarmed at how some things are rapidly disappearing from out collective human nature. Scrapbooking is barely alive, almost a subculture of folks that know the power of having a physical, well-thought-out compilation of memories that can be passed between people. Held in their hands and shared around the coffee table when they get together, they recall other times, other people, and things. There are great new scrapbooking tools that allow for greater creativity and encourage the common sharing of the most simple treasured photos to milestones achieved over the course of time.
Then along comes the sweet treats and all the 'villes, and for the time spent doing these things, memories could be recorded on the same device. Record your memories for the purpose of sharing them with someone the next time you see them. For instance, write your children a story based on a memory from your childhood. Recall your favorite date with your lover for your next anniversary celebration. Buy a card and send it to someone just to say hello!
We are becoming more disconnected from each other by the minute, if we continue to be 'numbed-down' by the rewards of points, levels, and aquisition. Things that have no real physical value. Things that only exist in the 'bank of time spent' that we can never get back. I encourage you to make your moments count by leaving your mark on the world, for your family or for a purpose larger than yourself. Give a gift that continues to give. Something that others will treasure and hold dear. Your own awareness matters to others when you embrace it literally! Create through #journaling literacy legacy that shows where your footprints are.
The big rocks in the forefront of this photo are symbolic to me personally. Just getting to the house was a struggle. This culture made the best of what was a rocky situation. At these ruins, we saw hand prints on what is left of the buildings that were thought to be homes. They left their mark. Intentionally. And the literary legacy began. Something to write home about.