Authentic. Day 1. An Introduction
Ben Ashby
We all have stories to share, we all have pasts that are woven into our histories like tapestries, some threads of flax, some of cotton, some of silks and gold. We all have stories we’d rather not share, stories we’d rather not relive ourselves, and of course volumes of stories we’d love to share with the world. The truth is our lives are a collection of these stories. Our lives are a massive anthology of tales, adventures, tragedies, and triumphs. With each passing chapter and volume we get to determine where we go next, and in those moments where we feel helpless and hopeless we get to pray to the gods and the universe that we receive the divine energy to know where to go or where to stay.
The greatest power in all of this is our own personal ability to take the pen or the type writer or the laptop for ourselves and to remember that we have agency in our own lives. We have the ability to share our stories and our pasts to find strength for ourselves or to find strength for others. We get to work through the traumas of the past by being intentional with the words we use and the narrative that we share. For me that is oftentimes knowing when to stay quiet, when to allow the memories and the stories to simmer, and when to finally put the pen and paper and words together. For me I have learned that one of my greatest talents in life is story telling and writing. I have learned that I have a way with words that is comforting to myself and to others. Words that are often times wise, ripened like watermelons in the hot southern summer sun, baked on the hardened earth, sweetened from the cool morning dew, and made strong by those endless hours of humidity and bright cloudless light. I learned long ago that I have an affinity for a slower way of life, today we call it Slow Living, as a child it was just the way we lived. Somewhere along the way between that rural Kentucky plot of land and this chapter sitting at a faux marble desk in New York City I learned a few things about life, about history, about small towns, gossip, community, and the proper way to make sweet tea…
Before we go back to the 1990’s rural Americana landscapes it is important to first acknowledge that for the past few years I have felt voiceless, silenced by life and silenced by narratives and lessons I didn’t get to control. Those chapters left me feeling silent as I slowly rebuilt my confidence and my love of life. Over the past couple of years I have slowly felt myself returning, my confidence, my drive, my talents, and my strengths coming back to the surface, and my ability to speak for myself once again flowing through my veins like the Rough River flows down from the hollers and hills and on towards the Green River bottoms land. Today I set here feeling strong again and feeling like it is a time to share, a time to unfold the heirloom quilts that have been sewn from the threads of life and to air it for the coming spring.
