Last week, I watched The Life of Chuck — twice. I’d already read the book, so I knew what was coming. But having just survived colon cancer and stared death in the face, the film landed differently for me. It stirred up all kinds of thoughts about what I’ve done with my life… and what I still want to do.
In an interview about the film, one of the stars was asked: “What are the core memories at the center of your personal universe?”
That question has been living rent-free in my head ever since.
I know a few of mine right away. Being in the delivery room — that’s a big one. But there are others: moments that may not look like much from the outside, but feel like gravitational anchors in my life. Watching the sun come up on a cold morning after a long night of writing. Laughing so hard with friends that my ribs hurt. Holding a brand-new book in my hands for the first time.
The thing is… how do you decide what counts as a “core memory”? Is it the size of the moment, or the way it replays in your mind years later? Is it the obvious milestones… or the small, unexpected flashes of meaning?
Stories work the same way. We keep telling them — and retelling them — because they’re the threads holding our lives together. Sometimes we even borrow other people’s stories to make sense of our own. That’s why we publish the kinds of books we do here at Stories Rule Press. They’re not just entertainment; they’re memory-shapers.
So now I’ll pass the question to you: What are the core memories at the center of your personal universe?
I’d love to hear them. Drop me a comment or send me a reply.