So far, so good when it comes to Cathy’s cancer treatment. She started her second round of chemo on Friday, and all went well. One down, eleven to go. She woke up Saturday morning and said it was the best she’d felt in two months. We did some shopping and then drove out to Bambi’s, our favorite produce stand. I remember the first time we found Bambi’s. We’d gone for a drive on a Sunday afternoon and had come across the produce stand by accident. Sometimes you don’t know where you’re going until you arrive.

So it is for essay writing. You begin a first draft, and you might not know what question(s) you’re chasing. The writing itself starts to draw those questions into sharp focus. When Cathy and I go to Bambi’s, we get a little bit of this and a little bit of that. Some green beans, for instance, and some tomatoes, some peppers and potatoes. Often on Sundays, we make a supper from our Bambi purchases. Everything comes together in a feast.

Essays can also come from this and that. Writing becomes a way of showing you why seemingly disparate elements belong together. With that in mind, I offer up this writing activity.

1. Start with an object. Don’t think too hard. Let the object choose you. Close your eyes. What object appears before you? It might be an object you presently own, or it might be something from your past that now only exists in your memory. Spend a few minutes writing about your object. Describe it, give it a context, respond to it.

2. Retrieve a memory. Make sure it’s a memory that has nothing to do with your object. Tell the story of the memory.

3. Come up with a phenomenon that perplexes or amazes you. It could be something from the natural world, something from the scientific world, the medical world, the celestial world, the whatever-you-choose world. Why does it interest you? What questions do you have about it? Does it mean something personal to you? Does the explanation for the phenomenon have anything at stake for you?

4. Consider your results. When you consider the three sections you’ve written, do you start to see any connections? Do they suggest any questions for further exploration? Do they call up other objects, memories, or phenomena? Do they show you what you’re really writing about and why it matters to you?

A tomato, a memory of my demure mother sitting on the back steps of our farmhouse washing her feet in a dishpan, the medical explanation of Down syndrome births for older mothers. I’d start my own essay with these elements. My mother was forty-five when I was born. Her chances of me being a Down syndrome baby were greatly increased. Chance? Luck? Or something about my mother and her lifestyle that helped us beat the odds? I won’t know until I begin. I invite you to do the same.