Tag: fiction

  • Place to be while the landscape keeps changing

    Place to be while the landscape keeps changing

    4 cabins, 4 poems

    Choose your “cabin” for the next few days and scroll to read the poem below

    A – A Cabin With a Tree Growing in the Middle

    B – A Cabin Halfway Up the Mountain

    C – A Cabin at a Fork In the Road

    D – A Cabin by a Waterfall

    –

    A – A Cabin With a Tree Growing in the Middle

    here’s to allowing yourself to consider

    what beautiful things might be possible here, 

    even if it looks different this time.

    because perhaps, after everything

    there is still room to grow in new directions.

    your roots run deep, and at the same time, 

    you can still become something new.

    may there be room for you

    to welcome what is slowly

    expanding and becoming possible now.

    B – A Cabin Halfway Up the Mountain

    remember this when you start to think

    you should be further along by now:

    there may be more happening within you 

    than this moment can fully reveal.

    the middle of the journey 

    can still be a place of meaningful change, too.

    what you have carried this far 

    has already changed you.

    what you have practiced along the way 

    has already become part of you.

    and it matters more than you know.

    you are free to be proud of how you have grown,

    even while you are still on the journey.

    sometimes the most lasting growth happens before proof.

    C – A Cabin at a Fork In the Road

    at unexpected crossroads,

    new chapters in the story

    of who you are can still emerge.

    you may be faced with new unknowns,

    and this is also true:

    you will continue to encounter 

    both steadiness and openings

    all throughout the many layers

    of the landscape you are moving through.

    wherever this journey takes you next,

    the things you nurture today

    can become part of what you carry

    with you toward tomorrow.

    4 – A Cabin by a Waterfall

    while the reality 

    of what is unknown is ever-present

    your growing readiness to find 

    rhythms within the change

    is becoming more present, too…

    just by returning, again and again, to the water,

    change is becoming something 

    you are learning to move with

    slowly and steadily you discover

    livable, breathable ways of being here

    -Morgan Harper Nichols

  • Finding language to tell this story

    Finding language to tell this story

    It can take a lot of energy to describe things and search for the right words, even when it comes to experiences we’re intimately familiar with. However, it can make a difference to give yourself permission to practice and explore within a space where there’s less pressure.

    Here’s an idea you can try. This exercise invites you to explore the subtle differences in how we perceive and describe shared experiences, ultimately helping you to find language for your own story.

    1 – Think of a recent, neutral or positive experience with someone else, like a dinner conversation or a trip to the grocery store. Write down 3-5 words that describe the overall feeling or atmosphere of that experience (e.g., relaxing, warm, busy). Don’t worry about being creative—just note what comes to mind.

    2 – Reach out to the person you shared the experience with. Explain you’re doing a journaling exercise: “Random question. What 3-5 words describe [briefly describe the experience] for you? I’m doing a quick journaling exercise.”

    3 – Compare your lists. Take note of word similarities and differences. Do they highlight different parts of the experience?

    4 – Observe even in shared experiences, we each perceive, describe, and tell stories differently.

    Alternative Exercise: Describe an experience today using 5 words. In 3 days, describe the same experience again without looking at your original words. Did anything change?

    Why This Matters: This exercise helps you validate your voice by showing how we all perceive and describe even simple experiences differently.

    This can have a profound impact on the stories we tell. When you can acknowledge and embrace these differences, it creates an opportunity for deeper connections and an opportunity to grow in confidence and it also allows you to connect more deeply with others and learn how they tell stories. You can start to notice your unique way of finding language for a store by noticing the subtle differences in how you (and others) describe even the most simple things.

    -Morgan Harper Nichols

    If you’re interested in finding language to tell stories (through journaling, letter-writing, or creative or professional work) join me for an in-person writing workshop in Atlanta, Georgia on July 26! Tickets

  • Embracing the depths of your story

    Embracing the depths of your story

    If you were to think of your life as a story, there are likely chapters that you could easily recite over and over. For some, it might be the story of how you grew up, and for others, it might be the story of how you ended up in the city you’re currently in or the story of your middle name. These stories become a part of us in a way that can be very useful. This is especially true if you have parts of your story that people might not be familiar with, such as having a rare name or being from a small town that few have heard of. However, one of the challenges of having familiar stories is that they can feel fixed and stuck in time. You may even get tired of telling other people the same old stories. You may even get tired of telling those stories to yourself, too. So what can you do?

    Here’s something you can try:

    Think of a book you’ve read where you’ve been able to watch or read an interview that features the author of the book. It’s likely that upon listening to them talk about the story and its characters, you learned something new about the book when hearing them dive into all of the details that weave the story together, even if it’s not written on a page. They share details that only they know because they’re the only ones who have been telling that story. What if––if only for a moment––you could imagine yourself as the author of a fictional book you’re writing, where you’re sharing the behind-the-scenes later on:

    What are some details of your life that may have been overlooked or forgotten? What are the untold stories and hidden layers that add depth and richness to the narrative? The details you might share face-to-face or with certain people? The things that were beautiful and meaningful but hard to put into words?

    You don’t have to put words into a perfectly publishable narrative to take a moment to reflect on the details. Even just acknowledging them is a way to be reminded that your story is alive with a richness that is worth paying attention to.

    May the hidden layers of your story help you realize the depths of it. – Morgan Harper Nichols