full – adjective | \ˈfu̇l also ˈfəl\
: containing as much or as many as is possible or normal
A steady stream of friends, acquaintances, and strangers wound through the new Frankfort Writers Center on Sunday. One friend drove all the way from Pittsburgh the day before just to be here for the open house. Others came from Indianapolis and Lafayette. My dad drove the one hour and 42 minutes from his home in West Central Indiana. Several of us just took a short ride across town to get here.
It’s such a small little office, really. Two rooms plus the powder room. The place felt full most of the afternoon. And so was my heart, knowing that these family members and friends, both old and new, were celebrating the work I’ll do here. But I also was filled up inside by the thought of more people following their passion, finding their joy, and seeing their dreams realized by the work that will happen here. Both mine and theirs.
Some people came to figure out what a Writers Center even is. Others marched in on a mission because they, too, are writers and they wanted to meet their people. Many people came just to support me, though, and I was tickled when friends I’ve known for a while now would pull me aside and whisper in my ear that they, too, had always wanted to write. “Now’s your chance,” I told them, laughing at the absurdity that so many of us get to do the things we’ve longed for.
Now’s the chance.
But a person doesn’t launch something like the Frankfort Writers Center without examining her life, her already full life, to figure out how to make room. I’m so committed to the “localness” of this new project, to feeling a little more rooted myself in a building and a city and a state with history and stories all their own. But that means I need to siphon out a little of what I have been doing to make room for all that’s new.
So I’m filled up with the excitement of new beginnings at the same time I’m a little deflated by the loss of endings. Each couldn’t have happened without the other. I suspect that’s a lot like most of life, this wonderful, treacherous, glorious life.
What’s YOUR word of the week? Drop it into the comments section, or share it on this week’s Facebook post. If you post about your word on your blog, please slip the link into a comment below so I can stop by and join you.
~ One word a week for one year; one life changed forever. ~
My Year in Words walks through a year in the life of author Charity Singleton Craig as she reflected on one word each week.
“It seemed like such an ordinary year at the time. If I hadn’t been recording it along the way, we might have missed it. My Year in Words is significant because I paid attention, I kept track, and I wrote it down.”