The “Tell Them” Theory - To the Wave at My Feet

In my writing group we take turns each month facilitating discussion and preparing a writing prompt. Last night was my turn and I thought I’d share the prompt I came up with and the short piece I wrote in our session in case it inspires anyone else to write!

I’ve been thinking a lot about what we do and don’t share with others. I recently saw someone post their “Tell Them” theory (my apologies that I can’t recall where I saw it!) – that we don’t often tell people when something they do makes us feel seen or supported or just inspired. It was with that in mind a few weeks ago that I wrote to a random dance studio after seeing their students dance to a David Attenborough monologue about our connection to nature. I was so moved and surprised by the piece, I just felt I needed to tell them how powerful I found the dance. More recently, members of our community organized a mini parade for a pillar of our community so he could see how much he meant to everyone before he died – not bottling it all up until a memorial service.

And so my prompt to my fellow writers is this: Tell them – think about a person, place, ecosystem, creature, natural phenomenon, or anything that comes to mind that you appreciate and tell them why. It can be a letter, a poem, a braided essay, a piece of art.

I took my own prompt to heart and wrote this short ode to waves last night. Let me know what you think and I’d love to see any pieces this inspires for you!

To the Wave at my Feet

You remind me that I’m alive:
That I can feel things even when I’m numb,
That I can be both the same and ever changing,
That my rage has meaning,
That my calm is appreciated,
That I can be different to match the mood,
That release is just as important as the build up.

You connect be back:
To the person I was at five, at twenty, yesterday,
To the family I’ve lost,
To the memories I fear I’ll forget,
To the ancestors I never knew,
To the endless possibilities of childhood,
To all the places you’ve touched before we met.

You draw me forward:
Into the unknown,
Into the feeling of immense power,
Into the reminder of my own insignificance,
Into the oxygen infused mist,
Into the roar only a hundred thousand water droplets can make,
Intro the power of predicable uncertainty.

You and I? We’re both one of many and wholly unique.

Thank you for all that you are.