A Community Creative Project - "I've Learned"
And Studio Journal
“I’ve learned that no matter what happens, or how bad it seems today, life does go on, and it will be better tomorrow. I’ve learned that you can tell a lot about a person by the way he/she handles these three things: a rainy day, lost luggage, and tangled Christmas tree lights. I’ve learned that regardless of your relationship with your parents, you’ll miss them when they’re gone from your life. I’ve learned that making a “living” is not the same thing as making a “life.” I’ve learned that life sometimes gives you a second chance. I’ve learned that you shouldn’t go through life with a catcher’s mitt on both hands; you need to be able to throw something back. I’ve learned that whenever I decide something with an open heart, I usually make the right decision. I’ve learned that even when I have pains, I don’t have to be one. I’ve learned that every day you should reach out and touch someone. People love a warm hug, or just a friendly pat on the back. I’ve learned that I still have a lot to learn. I’ve learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.”~ Maya AngelouI’ve heard the last powerful line of this piece written by Maya Angelou quoted many times, but it was only recently I encountered the full quote. I really loved all the wisdom, truth and good humor in the extended writing. I love how she holds what she’s learned with a sense of confidence and gratitude —and yet with enough humility and curiosity to say “I’ve learned that I still have a lot to learn.”
I also thought how fun and creative it would be to borrow her phrase “I’ve learned” and use it as a writing prompt. I mean think of all the things you’ve learned over the years—the hard and the holy, the mysteries that will always remain mysterious, the clean edges of truth, the soft edges of every kindness given or received, the way trouble and wonder will continue to show up, sometimes leaving us beached and breathless with uncontainable joy or unutterable sorrow.
I think of all the times I was knocked to my knees by a beautiful and brilliant flash of the completely obvious.
