While that is true of Farmers' Markets in general, my real weakness is fresh peaches. The real secret though is to get the ones that are beat up. In North Carolina, they call them "windfalls" because they are so ripe that they fall at the least wind. Of course, the fall bruises them, but what is left is exquisite, so sweet that the juice literally runs out while I am peeling the fruit.
Some people would look at that beat-up fruit and think it was garbage. To me, it is the tastiest thing in the natural world. The difference? The story that the observer tells about what he or she is seeing. It's the same fruit. As they say, "One man's trash is another's treasure."
A coaching colleague emailed me a link to an NPR piece about rewriting stories* today. The story was about a boy who was frightened by a statue of Frankenstein, but instead of telling about how the boy was frightened when he went passed the statue, his mother related that the boy had peed on the statue when he went back.
The ability to rewrite our stories in an empowering way allows us to exercise our power over our own experience. For years, I've been helping clients rewrite their stories where they've created disempowering fiction. Recently, a client told about something she didn't want to do because she knew that she wouldn't be successful at it. One at a time she gave me excuses about why she wouldn't be successful. One at a time I asked her for an example of someone who had succeeded but didn't meet that particular success criteria. By the time we finished, she realized that there was no legitimate reason why she, too, couldn't succeed. Then she could rewrite her story.
Today I started working on my fifth or sixth book, depending on whether you count one that is started but not yet finished. Although I've been writing quite literally since I could hold a pencil, I didn't start writing seriously until I was in my mid-forties because my mother always said to me, "Writers are poor and starving." When a college professor commented on my talent and encouraged me to consider a writing career, I responded, "Writers are poor and starving." I had made my mother's story my own without even being conscious of what I was doing.
For over four decades, I lived the story my mother had given me. Then at some point, I could no longer run from my gift. Being an artist is a toss-up, but can the artist not be an artist? If my mother were still alive, she would point at me and shake her finger and say, "I told you so," because I have struggled financially. More importantly, I have occasionally been frozen with fear of doing what I am here in the world to do.
But today, I felt more alive than I have since I last worked on a book. I am rewriting my story. The work I began today is a memoir, and I am telling myself that it will be the next Eat, Pray, Love. It's author, Elizabeth Gilbert, is living proof that authors need not be poor and starving. A reader of this blog has said she could see me at the celebration when the book deal is announced. I've seen myself on the New York Times Best Sellers' List for years. Maybe these too are fiction, but they are far more productive that an equal fiction than "Writers are poor and starving."
When my colleague sent me the link to the NPR piece, he said, "This could be useful in coaching." It can, indeed. I believe the ability to rewrite our stories is a basic life skill. We should teach our children how to dress themselves, brush their teeth, balance a checking account, and rewrite their stories.
This evening I feel a deep sense of peace, joy, and power. Writing does that for me. Hmm. Writing is where I find peace, joy and power. That is a story I can live with.
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