For a long time, I’ve thought about writing memoir. Not autobiography, which is mainly an act of chronology (this happened, then that happened, then this happened), but memoir, which is more about finding meaning and universal truth in what has happened.

Several things have held me back. First, I’ve never been comfortable writing in the first-person, but that has started to change since I started writing my blog.

Second, memoirs–at least the famous ones–seem to always be about deep personal trauma that I have been blessed to have never experienced: rape, incest, child abuse, horrible parents. Not part of my life. My life has been blessedly boring.

But as painful (and, I hope, cathartic) as it must be to write about trauma, I wonder about the meaning found in an ordinary life. A life of Catholic schools, big public colleges, stable families, steady employment. A life, in short, of privilege. Maybe because such a life is more typical (or maybe not?), the meaning found in it might be applicable to more people, and thus worth exploring.

I don’t know; this is just something I’ve started to think seriously about undertaking. I would be interested in your thoughts in the Comments section below. And while you’re at it, you can check the box to get email notification of Write Fox Blog posts.