May 17, 2012

This Writer’s Life – A Return to the Small Things

by Melissa Corliss DeLorenzo

autumnJust recently, naps have become a thing of the past in our family. It’s a rather jarring transition. Not really a surprise, but I am left more than a little bereft by the loss. Not because I prefer my children unconscious (mostly), but for five years now I have walked daily while, first, just my son then, later, my daughters, too, napped. A double stroller and an ergonomic baby carrier. We walked all over—it was so much easier than going by car. My obsession (and it’s not an overstatement to use that word, because I grew to love these walks) with walking began with my son who, from infancy, would not nap unless in constant motion. So, I walked.

And when I say I walked, I mean two to three hours a day and sometimes longer if we did a little shopping before nap time. I used to read books while I slowly moved through the side streets of my neighborhood. I read almost all of Alice Munro’s body of work this way. It was a slow and sweet time.

With book in hand, I still spent a good deal of my time outdoors looking around. Seeing the trees and the ground and the edges of the road where the grass or dirt met the tar. I witnessed closely the changing of the seasons. I loved the green slim needles of the white pine against the snow among the bare trees. And fall—my favorite—was slow showers of leaves in between the trees, collections of colors on the ground, leaves scattered on the still-green of the grass. Walking along slowly, I could experience all of it in an authentic and unrushed way.

The small details discovered in the slow movements.

I used to think how someday I would have the time to truly enjoy fall and the other seasons, too. But it’s not time. It’s a matter of simply understanding, of simply remembering to just look.

That’s all you have to do.

Without my walks, it’s harder to find those moments. This feels like a great loss.

But the other day, I took the kids to a playground that is set inside a land conservatory. We went for a walk on a trail we followed through the woods and there it all was again. Of course it was.

Did my Muse find me this week?

Yes, I think she did—in the lovely small details and those slow movements. That’s where I find inspiration. That is where I locate the starting points.

Sometimes, it’s a matter of remembering where to go.

Melissa Corliss DeLorenzo is a writer, reader, yogini (when she can squeeze it in), mom, part-time Office Manager, a homemaker and the Coordinator and Writer for The Writer’s Life blog. She loves to cook and take long walks with her kids and is a woman who wants to meaningfully exchange and intersect with other women writers. She holds a Bachelor of Arts degree in English Literature from the University of Massachusetts and a Masters of Fine Arts in Creative Writing from Naropa University in Boulder, Colorado. Currently she works at a web development company (because part-time Office Manager buys more groceries than Struggling Writer). She is at work on a novel and a short story collection. Melissa lives in North Central Massachusetts with her family.

Want to write for The Writer’s Life blog? Drop us an email at thewriterslife@hercircleezine.com.

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Posted Under: The Writer's Life
About Melissa Corliss Delorenzo

Melissa Corliss DeLorenzo is a writer, reader, yogini, mom, homemaker and the Associate Editor for Her Circle Ezine. She loves to cook and take long walks with her kids and is a woman who wants to meaningfully exchange and intersect with other women writers. She holds a Bachelor of Arts degree in English Literature from the University of Massachusetts and a Masters of Fine Arts in Creative Writing from Naropa University in Boulder, Colorado. She is at work on several novels. Melissa lives in North Central Massachusetts with her family.

Comments

  1. Hannah Sue says:

    Small talk for small people is so good . The children , to say good morning , most
    will not respond at all . How are you today ? They don”t have a clue . I just love this
    weather but we do need rain . They hump there shoulders . I think its part of good
    manners to have small talk . It shows folks you care . So many are caught up in there own little world , with cell phones and I pods who has time for small talk.
    I watch them all , in there cars or on the bus , so empty . Looking far off into them
    selves, its very sad . Oh the fun they miss out on, with lively conversation . We would sit on the front steps at my grandmothers home . Lord have mercy how
    those country women could talk , about small things . Who had a new car and
    babies were always news. Hair do’s and hair don’ts . Crops and new cakes to bake. What was on sale and the church meetings, it went on and on . I was taking
    it all in, listening ees drop-in are ya ? My eyes were wide but my mouth stayed shut .That is until I started my own bit of small talk . Said with a very southern tone.

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