“That’s the kind of story I want to write, the kind that stops being writing and starts being life.” George Saunders
By: Gabriela Yareliz
The Chinese lunar new year. First night of Ramadan. Ash Wednesday. Resurrection Sunday peeks over the horizon on the other side of fasting and journey.
My express train going local. Sigh.
It’s weirdly “warm” compared to what we have had the past few weeks. It’s rainy and damp.
I am listening to old New York stories, and reminded that so many people around us have the most incredible stories. Each person a vault of life, that if tapped, reveals sparks of magic, insight and history that offers sudden understanding.
The stories we tell— these moments of transition have a way of reminding us of our points of transformations. The moments that make our voice break. The moments that make tears fill our eyes to the brim. The moments that make us break out in uncontained laughter. The moments that make us our most undeniably honest selves.
Other’s stories have the power to shift something deep inside of us, like a train that clicks onto a different track (like my currently rerouted train).
If we dare to talk; if we dare to listen— there is so much that deserves to be told, heard and passed on.
GABRIELA YARELIZ 