Words and music: two of my favorite things; things that can fill me with inspiration.
It’s about 1994. I’m 9-years-old, on the floor in my room in our first house in Florida. I have a blank spiral notebook in front of me and a pen. I have recently taken it upon myself to memorize four verses of “Amazing Grace,” beyond the first verse I already know. It is time to write my memoir in this notebook and I have the perfect title: Through Many Dangers, Toils, and Snares. After all, it is a beautiful line from my new favorite song.
I write this title ever-so-carefully and fancily on the first piece of notebook paper. I feel that surge of contemplative excitement upon opening a fresh notebook that is just waiting to be filled.
I turn the page.
I wait for the inspiration. Life is hard, after all, and not very fair. That’s what I keep hearing, anyway — it’s full of many dangers, toils and snares.
I wait. I tap the top of my pen on the page.
I realize I have no material because I have not been through any dangers, toils, nor snares.
We’ll have to revisit this at a later time.
Thanks, Mom and Dad, for a childhood free of turmoil.