Days of Being: October 21

While leaving my crush city after a quick weekend trip with my family, I do what I do every time we visit—I daydream about living there, becoming a local, becoming someone who can claim New Orleans as home. But I know it will never happen. My longing to be more connected to the people and culture and spirit of the city will swell like a river after a hard rain, but it will remain unsatisfied.

Your Turn:

Which city is your crush city?

Also, take a few minutes to record an ordinary moment from today because our ordinary moments matter. I’d love for you to share your ordinary moment in the comments below.  Or you can submit a few sentences about one of your ordinary moments and I’ll write a Days of Being entry to post online and on Instagram. If you’d like to participate, email me at charlotte@charlottedonlon.com.

Days of Being is a micro-memoir and micro-story project exploring memories and moments from our ordinary days. Multiple years are represented within the project celebrating what Madeleine L’Engle once said: “I am still every age that I have been.” Today’s micro-memoir is from one of my October 21s.

Days of Being: October 21

She sat at the desk in her office and listened to the new Lady Gaga album. She was home alone so she turned up the volume and played the songs she liked the most—the ballads—again and again. Later that day she told her best friend, “You need to listen to “Million Reasons” on the new Lady Gaga album. It’s gorgeous. It reminds me of you.” A few months later, she and her daughter listened to the album on repeat during a weekend road trip. Whenever “Million Reasons” played, she thought about her friend and her friend’s husband and their miracle marriage, their Lazarus marriage that was dead, resuscitated, and given new life.

Your Turn:

Where have you seen new life appear recently?

Also, take a few minutes to record an ordinary moment from today because our ordinary moments matter. I’d love for you to share your ordinary moment in the comments below.  Or you can submit a few sentences about one of your ordinary moments and I’ll write a Days of Being entry to post online and on Instagram. If you’d like to participate, email me at charlotte@charlottedonlon.com.

Days of Being is a micro-memoir and micro-story project exploring memories and moments from our ordinary days. Multiple years are represented within the project celebrating what Madeleine L’Engle once said: “I am still every age that I have been.” Today’s micro-memoir is from one of my October 21s.

Days of Being: October 20

The menu was printed on tattered and wrinkled sheets of cheap white paper and probably created in Excel—a spreadsheet with a list of items on the left and prices on the right. No logos, no tag lines, no images. But then we saw the “Cash Only” sign posted at the counter where you place your order. My husband and I usually have plenty of cash on hand, but not this afternoon. We left the line, left the restaurant, and went somewhere else with more space, plenty of open tables, and laminated menus. But I’m pretty sure we missed out on so much more.

Your Turn:

What’s one of your favorite restaurants that only the locals know about?

Also, take a few minutes to record an ordinary moment from today because our ordinary moments matter. I’d love for you to share your ordinary moment in the comments below.  Or you can submit a few sentences about one of your ordinary moments and I’ll write a Days of Being entry to post online and on Instagram. If you’d like to participate, email me at charlotte@charlottedonlon.com.

Days of Being is a micro-memoir and micro-story project exploring memories and moments from our ordinary days. Multiple years are represented within the project celebrating what Madeleine L’Engle once said: “I am still every age that I have been.” Today’s micro-memoir is from one of my October 20s.

Days of Being: October 19

As I drove down I-59 to New Orleans, I noticed scattered clusters of Queen Anne’s Lace—their round, white heads peering over dry grass in the median on the outskirts of Birmingham. A sign that sustained cooler temperatures have yet to arrive. But four hours later, the patches of wild, deep yellow swamp daisies captured my gaze as we left Mississippi and entered Louisiana. A brighter sign aflame signaling that autumn is, in fact, here.

Your Turn:

What is something you are waiting for that seems to be late but might be right on time?

Also, take a few minutes to record an ordinary moment from today because our ordinary moments matter. I’d love for you to share your ordinary moment in the comments below.  Or you can submit a few sentences about one of your ordinary moments and I’ll write a Days of Being entry to post online. If you’d like to participate, email me at charlotte@charlottedonlon.com.

Days of Being is a micro-memoir and micro-story project exploring memories and moments from our ordinary days. Multiple years are represented within the project celebrating what Madeleine L’Engle once said: “I am still every age that I have been.” Today’s micro-memoir is from one of my October 19s.

Days of Being: October 18 (Anna Nash)

It stopped me in my tracks—a feather hidden among the vibrant green leaves, perfectly camouflaged, mimicking the surrounding shapes. But I saw it in the wispy tangle. God’s beauty (a prayer? an echo? a hint?) resting at my feet.

This entry is inspired by an ordinary moment from one of Anna Nash’s October 18s. Anna is an entrepreneur who has a passion for helping people be the best they can be in life and work. As a Life Coach, Anna focuses on helping people find their God-given purpose. Beacon People, a non-profit organization, was birthed out of this calling. Anna is an idea girl who loves brainstorming, networking, and marketing and is the author of pathFinder, A Journey Towards Purpose. Her gifts lie in connecting people and opportunities that benefit them and give them a place to make impact. She resides in Birmingham, Alabama, and is married to her high school sweetheart, Tyler. They have 4 grown children and a Labradoodle named Nate.

Your Turn:
Where have you found unexpected beauty recently?

Also, take a few minutes to record an ordinary moment from today because our ordinary moments matter. I’d love for you to share your ordinary moment in the comments below. Or you can send me a few sentences about one of your ordinary moments and I’ll write a Days of Being entry to post online and on Instagram. If you’d like to participate, email me at charlotte@charlottedonlon.com.

Days of Being is a micro-story project exploring memories and moments from every day of the year. Multiple years from my life and others’ lives are represented within the project celebrating what Madeleine L’Engle once said: “I am still every age that I have been.”

Days of Being: October 18 (Dawn Curtis)

She sat in the bed of comfort wrapped in the white linens. Alarm clocks beeped throughout her home. The aroma of coffee hung in the air. The dog nuzzled tightly in the curve of her legs. Her sleepy-eyed daughter entered her room with a warm embrace, in need of encouragement and affirmation. Another day began to unfold. What will it bring? 

This entry is inspired by an ordinary moment from one of Dawn Curtis’s October 18s. Dawn creates, designs, and brands for work and other life-giving opportunities. As she sips her black coffee and listens to your story, the next thing you know she will be showing you a design for your life or dream like you have never seen before. On any given day you will find her sitting on her screened porch on the sofa, mini-doodle sitting on her lap, tapping away on her laptop. She dreams dreams for other people through her design work and helps them see a bigger God throughout the process. She lives in Birmingham, AL with her husband Bill and two little red headed girls.

Your Turn:
What did you notice when you woke up this morning?

Also, take a few minutes to record an ordinary moment from today because our ordinary moments matter. I’d love for you to share your ordinary moment in the comments below. Or you can send me a few sentences about one of your ordinary moments and I’ll write a Days of Being entry to post online. If you’d like to participate, email me at charlotte@charlottedonlon.com.

Days of Being is a micro-story project exploring memories and moments from every day of the year. Multiple years from my life and others’ lives are represented within the project celebrating what Madeleine L’Engle once said: “I am still every age that I have been.”

Days of Being: October 18

She realized her tendency to work to gain her worthiness was antithetical to grace. She wouldn’t need God’s grace if she could handle everything on her own. Her efforts to keep her life and her husband’s life and her children’s lives in order and under control kept falling apart anyway. Deep down, she knew she was still lost in many ways even though she was found. Fully acknowledging this truth required her to strip herself of the layers of protection she had worn her whole life. Was she ready to be seen?

Your Turn:

What do you need to let go of?

Also, take a few minutes to record an ordinary moment from today because our ordinary moments matter. I’d love for you to share your ordinary moment in the comments below.  Or you can submit a few sentences about one of your ordinary moments and I’ll write a Days of Being entry to post online. If you’d like to participate, email me at charlotte@charlottedonlon.com.

Days of Being is a micro-memoir and micro-story project exploring memories and moments from our ordinary days. Multiple years are represented within the project celebrating what Madeleine L’Engle once said: “I am still every age that I have been.” Today’s micro-memoir is from one of my October 18s.

Days of Being: October 17

I was able to snag a table in the crowded Starbucks before our meeting, which was a good sign. I sipped my drink, wrote a few notes, and waited for them to arrive. After they joined me, we spoke of possibilities, dreams, hopes. Our words and souls mingled with mystery inside the larger story that held us. We sat in the space created for this exact moment, but only God knows what’s being written. So we wonder, we watch, we wait.

Your Turn:

What are you waiting for right now?

Also, take a few minutes to record an ordinary moment from today because our ordinary moments matter. I’d love for you to share your ordinary moment in the comments below.  Or you can submit a few sentences about one of your ordinary moments and I’ll write a Days of Being entry to post online. If you’d like to participate, email me at charlotte@charlottedonlon.com.

Days of Being is a micro-memoir and micro-story project exploring memories and moments from ordinary days. Multiple years are represented within the project celebrating what Madeleine L’Engle once said: “I am still every age that I have been.” Today’s micro-memoir is from one of my October 17s.

Days of Being: October 16 (Sarah Pinkerton)

The evening was wet and dreary, but the air was thick with fall. We were all fussy and hungry, and it was getting late. I abandoned my homemade dinner plans and threw a frozen pizza in the oven. The kids and I ate our simple dinner in a rare moment of quiet stillness while we listened to the gentle rain, while I tasted the grace God always throws my way.


This entry is inspired by an ordinary moment from one of Sarah Pinkerton’s October 16s. Sarah lives in Birmingham, Alabama with her husband and their foster children.

Your Turn:
What can you do to simplify the next few hours of your life and simply be?

Also, take a few minutes to record an ordinary moment from today because our ordinary moments matter. I’d love for you to share your ordinary moment in the comments below. Or you can send me a few sentences about one of your ordinary moments and I’ll write a Days of Being entry to post online. If you’d like to participate, email me at charlotte@charlottedonlon.com.

Days of Being is a micro-story project exploring memories and moments from every day of the year. Multiple years from my life and others’ lives are represented within the project celebrating what Madeleine L’Engle once said: “I am still every age that I have been.”

Days of Being: October 16 (Katie MacGuire)

I teach my daughter how to hold her books and folders in her arms the way others, for whom this comes naturally, hold their books and folders so she can walk to class without dropping everything, without creating a scene, without drawing the laughter of her classmates. I can teach her this because I’ve had to put more thought into it than most people. Like a sculptor, I’ve had to study the angles and give attention to the placement of the arms, the fingers. I describe everything to her and demonstrate for her so she can practice. I’m able to help her become more capable because of my failings.

This entry is inspired by an ordinary moment from one of Katie MacGuire’s October 16s. Katie lives in Waterloo, Ontario with her husband and 4 kids. She runs a media-tech startup and is learning how to cope and parent with ADHD. 

Your Turn:
What is something ordinary you’re qualified to teach to someone else?

Also, take a few minutes to record an ordinary moment from today because our ordinary moments matter. I’d love for you to share your ordinary moment in the comments below. Or you can send me a few sentences about one of your ordinary moments and I’ll write a Days of Being entry to post online. If you’d like to participate, email me at charlotte@charlottedonlon.com.

Days of Being is a micro-memoir project exploring memories and moments from every day of the year. Multiple years from my life and others’ lives are represented within the project celebrating what Madeleine L’Engle once said: “I am still every age that I have been.”

Days of Being: October 14

I drink my morning coffee on the balcony and listen to the birds chirp and chirrup and cheep. It finally feels like fall—at least in the mornings and evenings. When I wake, and before I sleep, I am assured of the tilt of the Earth’s axis, that what is supposed to happen is happening.

Your Turn:

What signs of fall do you enjoy the most every year at this time?

Also, take a few minutes to record an ordinary moment from today because our ordinary moments matter. I’d love for you to share your ordinary moment in the comments below.

 Days of Being is a micro-memoir project exploring memories and moments from every day of the year. Multiple years from my life are represented within the project celebrating what Madeleine L’Engle once said: “I am still every age that I have been.” Today’s micro-memoir is from one of my October 14s.

Days of Being: October 11

I have no idea if my parents are still okay in the aftermath of Hurricane Michael. In between moments of worry, I remember to drink more water. Then I ponder how something that can cause so much destruction and damage is also necessary for life and health. I take another sip. I swallow. I say a short prayer.

Your Turn:

What is something you don’t know right now?

Also, take a few minutes to record an ordinary moment from today because our ordinary moments matter. I’d love for you to share your ordinary moment in the comments below.

Days of Being is a micro-memoir project exploring memories and moments from every day of the year. Multiple years from my life are represented within the project celebrating what Madeleine L’Engle once said: “I am still every age that I have been.” Today’s micro-memoir is from one of my October 11s.

 

Days of Being: October 6

She found a Van Gogh painting online called “Tree Roots” that reminded her of the rootedness she longed for—an image of huge tangled roots winding around each other and reaching deep into the ground for sustenance and nourishment. She wanted to know this kind of rootedness and sustenance and nourishment the same way she knew her children’s voices when they called her “Mama.”

Days of Being is a micro-memoir project exploring memories and moments from every day of the year. Multiple years from my life are represented within the project celebrating what Madeleine L’Engle once said: “I am still every age that I have been.” Today’s micro-memoir is from one of my October 6s.

Days of Being: September 10

My kids were fussy and I was fighting my own slump, so we went to my favorite bakery—what my kids had called “mama’s favorite bakery” since they could speak—for French baguettes and wild yeast sourdough bread and Belgian chocolate truffles. It was nice to get out a bit and be distracted from our funks. By the time we returned home we were more cheerful. We broke our bread and savored the chocolates, a sort of communion, a chance to remember who we were.

Days of Being is a micro-memoir project exploring memories and moments from every day of the year. Multiple years from my life are represented within the project celebrating what Madeleine L’Engle once said: “I am still every age that I have been.” Today’s micro-memoir is from one of my September 10s.

Days of Being: September 5

She was in the coughing phase of her cold which sometimes felt like the dying phase of her cold because she was coughing and coughing and coughing and she couldn’t imagine coughing for one more second so she thought surely she was going to die from all of the coughing.

Days of Being is a micro-memoir project exploring memories and moments from every day of the year. Multiple years from my life are represented within the project celebrating what Madeleine L’Engle once said: “I am still every age that I have been.” Today’s micro-memoir is from one of my September 5s.

Days of Being: August 29

When I read an article about New Orleans' comeback after recovering from Hurricane Katrina, I was homesick for a city I loved but had never lived in. I remembered my last manic episode, during which I was convinced the conspiracy included my family finally moving to my crush city. We were in New Orleans visiting my husband's parents and I knew the grand plan would be revealed any moment--our new home, the kids' new schools, my husband's new job.

But there was no plan to relocate. There was no conspiracy. There was just a woman with an illness that made her recognize her longings with a sort of dappled clarity like sunlight sneaking between the leaves of trees.

Days of Being is a micro-memoir project exploring memories and moments from every day of the year. Multiple years from my life are represented within the project celebrating what Madeleine L’Engle once said: “I am still every age that I have been.” Today’s micro-memoir is from one of my August 29s.

Days of Being: August 26

The first night of my solo beach trip I listed what I was thankful for: the sun sparkling and dancing along the rolling waves, the dragonflies darting and zig-zagging at sunset, perfect Italian coffee in bed, scallops with lemon and herb risotto, glasses of Prosecco, and laughing with my husband during our super-long, pre-bedtime phone conversation like we used to do when we first started dating, before we were married with two young children, with not as much time for super-long phone conversations. I was floating through a dream world filled with my favorite things.

Days of Being is a micro-memoir project exploring memories and moments from every day of the year. Multiple years from my life are represented within the project celebrating what Madeleine L’Engle once said: “I am still every age that I have been.” Today’s micro-memoir is from one of my August 26s.

Days of Being: August 19

After hearing her say how much she missed the liturgical elements at her former church, her spiritual director recommended she use the Book of Common Prayer to help fill the gaps she sensed at her new church. She downloaded an app for her phone that contained an electronic version of the entire book. She read the appointed Scriptures and Psalms that day. She read the appointed Scriptures and Psalms the next day. And the next. 

The following Sunday the gap had widened into a gulf. She had to squint even harder--what she wanted seemed further away. Her efforts to satisfy her longings failed. Her desire for more had only grown because of the tastes she received on her own. Her new church's restriction of liturgy made her want to binge on it.

Days of Being is a micro-memoir project exploring memories and moments from every day of the year. Multiple years from my life are represented within the project celebrating what Madeleine L’Engle once said: “I am still every age that I have been.” Today’s micro-memoir is from one of my August 19s.

Days of Being: August 17

After reading poems from a new book by one of my favorite poets, I stopped, closed the book, and worked on one of my own poems. I wrote even though I wasn't a poet. I wrote even though my poem about trees and tree bones and holding on to things that weren't mine would probably only be seen by my husband and my best friend. I wrote even though I knew nothing about stanzas and rhythm and meter. I wrote because writing and words were water for my thirsty roots.

Days of Being is a micro-memoir project exploring memories and moments from every day of the year. Multiple years from my life are represented within the project celebrating what Madeleine L’Engle once said: “I am still every age that I have been.” Today’s micro-memoir is from one of my August 17s.

Days of Being: August 14

After a horrible morning of fussiness and fighting, I turned off the radio and prayed for my children during our drive to school. I asked God to show them mercy. I prayed for beauty to emerge from the tangled wreckage of hurt feelings and harsh words. I asked God to redeem their day.

Days of Being is a micro-memoir project exploring memories and moments from every day of the year. Multiple years from my life are represented within the project celebrating what Madeleine L’Engle once said: “I am still every age that I have been.” Today’s micro-memoir is from one of my August 14s.