I’ve been working on my Romance novel and thoughts as I lay in bed last night, attempting to go to sleep, led me to impressions. Just so all of you are aware, my brain works in odd ways and chases what some in the world call rabbits. Rabbits are something you want to see, perhaps catch, even just for a photo, but will take you far away from where you once were.

For me, rabbit chasing has always been a philosophical adventure.

As I lay there thinking about one of my characters the idea of that person’s impression on others rattled around in my head. Then I began wondering about the kinds of impressions are made.

Where I ended up next is beyond me.

Some impressions are like the impressions you see as you walk along the beach in the evening. The footsteps you travel along beside with the deep heel, shallow toes and slightly kicked up bit of packed bits of all the things that make up that sand. You think about how interesting they look, wonder who made them, how lonely they look alone in their single file. Come the next morning you return to the beach and find that after a night of sleep the impressions are gone. They have been washed away by time and by nature.

Some people are like that. They pass through your life without leaving but a momentary impression. There was nothing in the impression to stay with you. A single file of footprints in an evening beach will be seen again, and not made by the same person, on a beach far away.

Then there are the impressions in your backyard. A frame was set up—the right mixture of materials of dry to wet—smoothening of the cement—patience for the cement to set up just right—then you are brought out as a child and your feet and hands are pressed into the wet but firm cement. You are now set.

Time was taken to make that impression. Time was taken to set it firmly in place. Care was taken to make certain everything was just right in order you would be a part of that world for as long as possible. There would be no overnight washing away of these prints.

I thought about impressions this morning during a conversation. The impressions we leave with our children. Those impressions are like an artist with a chisel. With each strike we leave our mark—our impression—on their minds, hearts, lives. Do we leave the impression of always being there and loving them and doing what it takes to get it ‘right’ or instead do we reinforce the impression of not caring, not being bothered to do something, thinking of ourselves first?

“The mind is like a sheet of white paper in this, that the impressions it receives the oftenest, and retains the longest, are black ones.” Julius Charles Hare

With each strike of our hammer into the chisel we set our impressions in place with our children and with those we interact with. What impression do you want to leave? Do you care what impression you leave? Have you sat back and thought about the impression you have made, are making, will leave?

This was written for my #BeWoW (Be Wonderful on Wednesday share) and for the Writer’s Quote Wednesday hosted by Colleen Chesebro of SilverThreading.Com. Click her site link if the Writer’s Quote Wednesday does not have a link in it directly to her post for the day yet. You simply ping back to her post or copy and paste your link there. You do the same with your #BeWoW posts to here if you have one. Not familiar with a ping back? Click here to find out how.

Much Respect-Much Love