Childhood Ice Cream Making Memories And Their Sweet Lessons
Saying yes to new revelations and tasting greater joy by overcoming challenges and writing daily
In the past few years, I’ve published 200+ pieces on different topics, including health and well-being, mindfulness, chronic illness, education, parenting, and overcoming. Some of these pieces are beautiful, but some lack essential ingredients to make them meaningful to anyone but me.
I write when words run like the melting double-scooped Hagen Dazs ice cream I held in my wet, sticky hands last Wednesday, purposely purchased for lunch on an 81-degrees, bright blue sky, sunny weather day — my fingers lapping up the sweet, thick pleasure in competition with my melting taste buds.
At other times, I write when my mind struggles to churn out the words through mental and manual labor. Most ingredients are there: the cream, fruit, ice, and ice cream machine, but there is no electricity or salt. So I sit there, as I did as a child, and turn, turn, turn.
My arm withers with the churning work I demand, and my mind struggles with the hope of producing a final product for delightful consumption. In the absence of ice and salt, my writing does not come together — tasty and tantalizing, like the sweet soursop, coconut, or…
