What Red Felt Boxes Hold
A short story
and an announcement I haven't made yet
As soon as I saw it, I immediately put the bracelet on. I hadn't seen it in a long time, even though I knew where it was. It wasn't lost, didn't fall behind a dresser or anything. I always know where it is. It is safely in a gorgeous wooden box with a bird on top, lined with red felt, and probably handmade. The box feels like it was made for this exact bracelet and not much of anything else, but it's not as if this was the box it came with. This bracelet wasn't that kind of nice. I remember picking it off my cousin's jewelry stash just a couple days after my Khaleh Parvin passed. I was just looking at it, and my cousin said it was her mom's, and then she told me to take it. The type of gift that you can't refuse, and I didn't want to refuse it, but I did meekly make her tell me to take it at least twice. When she handed it to me, she didn't say "don't lose it or I'll kill you..." but she didn't not say it. I had also grown a lot since the day in 8th grade when I left my whole backpack on the bus, and then had to get my older brother to drive me to the bus yard to get it.
I lost it, within a month.
I was on my way to Thomas' house with Bianca in the car. We stopped so I could grab some sweets; can't show up "dast khali." We first stopped by a wine shop, but I realized I didn't want to be handing someone wine when I enter their house. So we found a legit Middle Eastern sweets shop. The freshly shaven older gentleman spoke a version of Arabic I definitely couldn't understand, but he treated me like I was a nephew. Kept putting samples in my hand, the type of thing where I couldn't take no for an answer. His hospitality was the exact thing I wanted to bring to dinner, his sweets would suffice. Just after I paid but before I left, he ran into the back and cut an extra special piece of something, and gave it to me. "Something to nibble on during the drive," is what I'm positive he said, without knowing a single word he said.
I'd wear it every day if I thought it could take the type of normal wear and tear I get up to. It's delicate, not necessarily expensive, but it gets that type of treatment. I wore it on this particular day because I wanted her to hang with Thomas, and Bianca. We were between the filming and the airing of our season of Survivor, getting together to watch Season 47. Thomas made us an amazing dinner from scratch, a rare thing these days, and I felt she'd appreciate it.
We had made three or four stops on the way to Thomas', and I lost the bracelet somewhere along the way. We doubled back to a few places. I know I didn't leave it anywhere, I never took it off, because that was usually the culprit of my losing things. I'd remove something, just for a second, and object permanence would stop working in my brain, and it wouldn't be till 3 states away that I would realize I left it behind the bench. "Fuck, where the fuck is it" is a phrase that's now met with a chuckling "what did you lose this time" by my friends and family and pretty much anyone who's known me for a long time. But this time, I knew I didn't take it off. Not even for a second. It had to have fallen off.
I think someone saw it and snatched it off the ground. When I walked back into the wine shop they were acting sus as hell. The first time I walked in, I asked two questions about wine that showed I know nothing about alcohol. The second time I walked in I was wide eyed, pulling down on my lower neck, asking "have you by any chance seen this gold bracelet with what looks like emeralds in it? It fell off my wrist, and it was my Aunt's, and she passed just a month ago, so I really really need it. My cousin is, just... I just need to find it." I didn't cry, but I didn't not cry.
For some time I thought someone from that wine shop took it. I never for a second thought that the sweets shop owner took it. The sweets shop was closed now, plus we were late for dinner, but if it was there, it would be completely and 100 percent safe. Might as well be in a bank vault. It could be worth a million dollars and that man wouldn't take it from me.
Unless he was trying to keep me distracted with sweets because he saw my bracelet drop. Distracting me by speaking in a different language. Pretending to be my cousin, constantly putting samples in my hand, because he wanted to make sure that I didn't look down to see my Aunt's bracelet. A special treat for the road so I would never suspect a thing. I couldn't wait to go back. I'd go the next day, and I'd interrogate that fake old man.
I found it in my car the next morning.
I didn't blame myself for thinking poorly of the sweet man in the sweet shop. All things considered, it made sense that I'd be a bit paranoid of someone being sweet and taking something valuable from me. I still remember what I was going to say to my cousin when I told her. "Remember that time in 8th grade? This is way worse." Levity neutralizes her sometimes, but there would have been no softening the devastation we'd have felt.
For the record, I hadn't taken it off. At some point when Bianca and I were making our way over, but before dinner, I must have reached into the back to grab something, and it got caught on something, or fell off. It was sitting there in the middle of my faded black floor mat.
I take it back off my wrist. Moving day is special, definitely a day I'd want my Khaleh to be a part of, but there's also packing tape with metal teeth, and hammers, and moving quickly, and I don't ever want to give the rest of the speech I had prepared for my cousin when I thought I lost it. Today, it belongs in the red felt lined box that was made for it. But it also deserved to be remembered on moving day.
Here's why I told you all that.
Moving day is a great day for Story Mining, which is the process by which you look inward and decide what stories you want to tell. The goal is to choose to develop the stories that serve you. Picking the stories you should be telling. The ones you want to tell. Then you develop them by driving at those stories over and over, whenever they come up. When someone asks me "how's the move?" I'll be telling them this story. It won't be word for word, but they'll hear some version of it. Different, because it'll be delivered out loud, conversationally.
If and when we do another remembrance for my Khaleh, I'll definitely tell the story, and wear the bracelet. If I ever develop a speech about my ADHD diagnosis in adulthood, it'll probably go in there too. I don't know exactly, because I just mined it today. I don't know if it's a golden nugget that I'll say all the time, because I haven't even said it out loud yet, but I know I'll be using it somewhere. Sometimes I mine stories that I'll never tell. Today I had a list of about 15 I brainstormed during my move, and this one seemed the most obvious to write. Hope you enjoyed it.
If you want to properly give story mining a try, here's the whole thing. 10 minutes ish.
Minute 1: Take 5 or 6 deep breaths, deeper than you've ever taken. Slowly exhale.
Minutes 2 to 5: Ask yourself "what stories should I be telling?" Make a list of 10 story titles from the last six months. Maybe you just got a promotion but you never talk about it. Maybe you just had a breakup and you know everyone's going to ask you about it. Whatever comes to mind, write down just the title, or maybe a few notes about the story.
Minutes 5 and on: Write one of them out.
If that’s interesting to you, there’s a lot more where that came from.
I haven't even really announced this yet outside of my small cohorts of people that I coach... but If you want to give story mining a try with me on the beach, I'm hosting an all-day event for 50 people on October 17th in Venice, CA. We're starting with breathwork, then story mining, and then creative story telling outloud, all in one day with delicious food, and an inspired location. Come answer the question "what story should I be telling?", and then we'll party afterward, because it's my 40th birthday. More will be revealed soon, tickets will be $375 but if you want to reserve your spot now. You can Venmo me $273, and the title of the story you want to develop. Offer ends Wednesday 9/15. I just don’t think anyone is reading this far ya know? This will be a fun experiment. Let's see who read all this and really wants to improve their ability to tell their own story. See you in Venice.
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