Stories for theHeart & Soul

I was looking forward to next week's visit from our son who lives in Colorado, along with his wife, and our three grandchildren. He hasn't been back to The Christine Center since our wedding here 39 years ago this August. Then life changed the script...

It was one of those July days, low 80s, humid as a sauna, the kind of weather that drains your energy before you've even finished your morning tea. As I walked down our wooded road to get the mail, a cool breeze slipped through the trees. Instantly, I remembered "Blowin in the Wind"

This past week, I was outside early in the morning and after the sun started to set, pulling weeds and planting flowers. With the thermometer climbing to 87°F in the afternoons, I postponed my usual indoor storytelling work until midday. Nobody needs to hear me grumbling dramatically while gardening. Gardening humbles us. No matter how carefully we plan our gardens, Nature still reminds us who is really in charge. One minute I’m confidently arranging flowers like a landscape

Lately, at gatherings, I’ve noticed something curious. I’m the oldest person in the room. Now, I could clutch my pearls, check my pulse, and start Googling “good orthopedic shoes”… or, I could ask a different question:

“You can’t go back and change the beginning, but you can start where you are and change the ending.” — C.S. Lewis

March feels like that slightly wild friend who shows up with muddy boots, big ideas, and a tambourine.

Lately, I find myself not exactly in the present moment. I have a hard time focusing. I’m easily distracted, often forgetful, and far too skilled at doom scrolling. My anger flares up. My actions feel uncertain - like I’m climbing a mountain wearing flip flops.

Happy New Year! Please enjoy this fresh start, which arrives dragging last year’s news behind it like an overstuffed carry-on.

We often think joy arrives when the world applauds us. But sometimes joy simply shows up when we make something… anything… that brings a little more light to the world.

"Rejoice Regardless” a program at the American School of Storytelling in Minneapolis was soul vitamins washed down with a cup of laughter.

I used to read audiences by their eyes and laughter—now it’s deer, pine trees, and squirrels judging my punchlines. I’ve traded stages for the Wisconsin woods (and carrier-pigeon internet), but the stories keep sloshing. Join me as I learn to write without the nods, just me, a keyboard, and your honest feedback. Helping imaginations fly!

Carol McCormick, the storyteller who helps imaginations fly launches new website!