I traveled North this past weekend to spend some time with my parents, grandparents, old friends and any one else I could squeeze into a four day visit. Every time I visit, my mom reminds me of the two drawers in the wood desk in my old room that are filled with old papers and what she refers to as ‘junk’. So, this trip I finally took a few free minutes to sit down and go through it all.

The drawer was filled with pictures from elementary school and junior high; an old 4-H record book; large belt buckles from my days of wranglers and boots; my purple sash that I wore as the Sonoma County Pork Producers Princess…Yes, I raised Pork; a script from one of my high school plays in a worn out, purple folder. There in that shabby folder is where I found it.

There it was on one sheet of binder paper, written in pencil, front and back. The beginnings of my novel and the very first thing I had ever written on my own. It had come back to me. I had wanted to be a writer since I was thirteen years old. Somewhere between thirteen and my mid twenties I had forgotten.

I was in the eighth grade and I had brought the beginnings of the novel to my English Teacher and wanted her to read it and tell me what she thought. I remember very clearly she had said “What do you want me to do with this? This isn’t an assignment” and she handed it back to me. She apparently did not have the time to be bothered. With a crushed spirit, I put the writing in a folder and there it sat in my closet for some time. To my utter despair the folder was thrown out on a closet clean up day with all the other ‘junk.’ In an attempt to recreate the novel, I had written down all I could remember in one sitting and that is what I held in my hands; the remnants of my first writings.

What I find fascinating is not only had I wanted to be a writer, some thirteen years ago, but the writing reflects very much who I am at heart today and who I have always been. As a thirteen year old girl I thought and wrote with some interesting insight.

I spoke in first person as the character, Ivy Marquette. “…They (my older sisters) were going to marry for money and riches, myself for love. My father is a well known spice trader. He has traveled far and wide, bringing back only a small taste of the enchanted world beyond. My mother is a pottery maker, as well as a wonderful mother and devoted wife.” I still believe in love. It is easy to become cynical about love in this day and age however, the idea of true, deep, lasting, love will not leave me and I will not let it go. I still believe in devoted wives and husbands and that loyalty is a virtue worth holding on to. I continue to be a hopeless romantic.

I have always felt in me a need to create and do something, anything, meaningful with my life. “I wanted to create something as my mother did and have a way to express myself. At the age of ten I began making beaded jewelry and studying dance with a worn out (retired) gypsy. For six years I studied and learned many dances, until the desire to see the world took over. A traveling caravan of gypsies came through town one day and as fast as the wind carries a feather I was whisked away on a life long adventure.” It is alright if you laugh. I did. To be perfectly honest, I do not desire to be a traveling gypsy. As a matter of fact, when I come back from a trip I cannot wait to step foot in my house and just be home for awhile. Although, the excitement of wanting an overall adventurous life remains and I began expressing myself in high school by acting in the school plays and graduated college with a degree in Theatre Arts. I relish in the challenges that arise during the creation of a play. Most importantly, I hold tight to the fact that whatever you want to be in life is possible. Oh, and I love to dance.

I also, care for people and enjoy being a part of people’s lives and listening to them tell their stories about how they came to be who they are today. “I traveled to greater places, across vast bodies of water and felt the winds of many exotic and mystical areas on my face. Each one having a story to go with it. I remember clearly the last few years as the most remarkable. As we had become a part of the people’s lives, just by the chance of us passing through.” With each step I take and each person I encounter I affect them in some way, therefore I must be kind to everyone I meet because I might not get the chance again. I desire to be a positive influence in the lives of those I know and uplift them.

The content of my novel is very close to my heart. However, there have been times that I have forgotten or let go of those ideals. The world through my experiences and through what other people believe around me, has told me that these ideals are not valid. People have tried to convince me that to be creative is not something that will pay the bills, therefore it has no value and that love is only in fairy tails and I should settle for whomever comes along no matter if he lives by the same principles as I do. My experiences have tried to sway me into believing people are not good and that they just want to hurt me. The negativity, critical nature and shallow gossiping of many have rubbed off on me on occasion, even for years at a time. But the most amazing thing has happened. I changed my association, which changes my experiences and leads me right back to where I started and right back to who I really am.

As I continue to associate with those who in spite of everything believe that goodness, happiness, love and adventure are available and are living it themselves, the more I hold tight to those beliefs. My heart is heavy for those I know who are million dollar people who want families and success in all areas of life, yet still associate with those who believe and act the opposite to what is really the core of who they are.

I have heard that if you stay in one place long enough you become that place. If you associate with certain people long enough you become like those people. However, if that is not whom you were intended to be; you will feel it. You will feel a soft yet penetrating tapping upon your heart that will never cease. The tapping may grow dull from time to time, but it will persist until you discover those who are like minded, who will lead you into significant experiences that will allow the unveiling who you really are.

How do we expect to obtain what we desire, if we associate and listen to people who do not have it and do not want us to have it?