Stories, stories everywhere …
By the side of the road on my morning walk today in a quiet, bayside suburb south of Sydney, beneath an unblemished summer’s sky, a treat: a mirror, tall and rectangular, plain if not for the words scrawled in pink lipstick down its centre. Sadly, of these, I can only recall the beginning: “Dear mum and dad, I am going away in search of love …”
I paused briefly, surprised, before continuing on my walk, but then, just metres down the road, I had to turn around and take another look. My dog, Remy, looked at me as if to say, ‘Why are you going the wrong way?’ By the time I’d returned to the mirror, it had reeled in another passer-by. I was going to take a picture to try to record the words but I wouldn’t have been able to make them out with the light reflecting on the glass. Some of the words had also been wiped away, but one part described how the writer wouldn’t have mobile access wherever she was going, so anyone wanting to get in touch would have to take up old-fashioned pen and paper. “God forbid,” she wrote, cheekily.
On the top right-hand corner of the mirror, there was a note written on white paper. It said “free to good home,” but asked that whoever claimed the mirror see “the family” first as the mirror had much sentimental value and they wanted to make sure it went to the right place, with the right people. In all of my years as a connoisseur of kerbside treasures, I’d never seen such a thing!
For the better part of an hour, as I trudged the well-worn route home, I thought about the mirror. Who was the author? How long ago had she written her lipstick letter? Why did she write it on a mirror, instead of paper? And where did she leave it for her parents to find? I was tempted to knock on their door just to find out.
The discovery made me think of how stories surround us, how everything and everyone has a story to tell, from A-list celebrities to lovelorn teenagers living in redbrick houses in a sleepy, leafy suburb. Over the years, I’ve written about both kinds of folks, and everyone in between, and am always honoured to be entrusted with their stories … In my new book, coming in July, I explore the idea of stories as powerful healing tools. In the face of heart-cracking loss, the story of a loved one reaching out—in myriad magical and personal ways—can become a steadying, grounding force, whether the experience is shared with others or simply kept private and close.
I am fortunate enough that many wonderful subjects shared their moving stories with me for the book I’m excited to see published this year. It will be the last in the non-fiction paranormal/spiritual trilogy that began with Spirit Sisters in 2009, so now, being a storyteller, of course my thoughts are wandering in the direction of finding new stories to tell. It’s already inside me, I know, it’s just a matter of uncovering it.
Lucky, then, that there is inspiration everywhere. “Dear mum and dad, I am going away in search of love …” If I follow her, I wonder, where might she take me?
My walking buddy, our four-year-old rescue dog, Remy.
