outWORD by Matte Downey

As I sit down to write a blog today, this has been my process thus far. Look at an idea I jotted down several weeks ago. Try to remember why it seemed important and exciting at the time. Get a drink. And a bowl of popcorn. Iron some shirts. Look out the window at the rain. Research flights for an upcoming trip. Get another drink. Look through some scribbled notes that I put in a file. Yes, that might be something. Or not. Decide to have lunch and watch a design show, hoping that will put me in a more creative space. The show is over. Sit in the chair and start typing. Read it over and ask myself, is this really anything? Do I keep going or do I toss it out? Think about alternate careers, perhaps investing in a popcorn company. Eat chocolate. Sit at the computer again and type some more. Decide that writing something today is important, even if I delete most of it tomorrow. Wonder if inspiration is on vacation. Wish I was on vacation. Look out the window. Type more words. Delete ...

I like to read stories. I also like to write stories. I have done a fair bit of both and, over the years, I have learned a few things about what stories do and do not do. In essence, a story is a trajectory. It sets the reader or listener on a path toward something or someone. It has a beginning (a specific starting point in time), it has a middle (in which characters face various challenges, setbacks, and victories), and an end (which is not really the end, but an invitation for the reader to imagine past the last sentence). Stories are always partial and incomplete. They never tell it all, but they do set us on a particular journey. What stories do NOT do is seek to make a case for absolute truth statements. Stories do not prescribe a particular plan of action in order to achieve certain results. Stories do not give us universal rules and regulations. When we try to force stories to perform apologetic, didactic, or juridical tasks, we end up mishandling them. A story inv...

Christmas is a time of year when we see traditions being enacted all around us. Traditions, at their best, tell a story. They are meant to be reminders of identity, history, and hard-won values. Unfortunately, traditions can easily become unmoored from their stories. When this happens, the tradition morphs into something else: it may become a hollow act practically devoid of meaning, or it may become associated with a different story, or the story may be revised to reflect a more convenient story. About a month ago, I heard aboriginal women telling the heart-wrenching story of the slaughter and conquest which accompanied the original celebrations of Thanksgiving in America. This inconvenient story has been removed from the tradition in favour of a more sentimental, Euro-centric tale. The tradition changes when the story changes, and we must resist whitewashing the stories associated with our traditions, for doing so causes us to lose our way. Jesus encountered some very devout tra...