I love opening a book and finding a quote that speaks to me. To be quite honest, most books do speak to me in some way or another. Just the other day, as I was reading The Book of Mirrors, by E. O. Chirovici, I reached a paragraph that jumped out at me.

Somebody once said that the beginning and the end of a story don’t really exist. They’re merely moments that are chosen subjectively by a narrator to allow the reader to look in on an event that began sometime previously and will end sometime after.

Yes, I whispered to myself. I thought about all the stories I have written, and how those stories could have begun anywhere, but that I had chosen exactly that place to start. And I thought about how, in the process of revising a story, we often opt to begin our stories in a place different than we originally intended. But really, we could decide to start and end anywhere. Anywhere. And there’d still be more story before and after those beginnings and endings.

What about our life stories? Are beginnings and endings as fluid as those we find in the written word?

Something to think about this lovely Friday morning.

Image of sunrise and grass by Christoph Schütz from Pixabay.

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