As a result, I am realizing how incredibly difficult it is to find good stories.
I finally saw that I always took good news stories for granted, but today that has changed.
It's easy as sin to think of great stories, but to actually find evidence of them in the real world is another matter.
It takes a lot of hope, endurance and resolve to delve underneath some people's answers to poke at the real flesh of what they are saying, and even then it's not guaranteed that what oozes out is worthy of a story. Yet, no matter how much I try to track down awesome stories, I find them incredibly evasive. Many times it feels like chasing a ghost of my mind.
After a few hours of tiresome interviewing, I sat at the Metra station in Wilmette, cold and sleepy. I looked down the endless strip of metal and wood to my left, to my right, and wondered how wonderful it would be to have a story find me.
Then I realized that I have known this wonder - that I have been the one sought after by the Story itself.
It is, after all, the greatest story of them all. If it were left up to me to find it, I would be in infinitely vexing, fatally deep despair. But to have it find me - that is incredibly liberating. I can rest now, because I have it and it has me.
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On another note, I sent my absentee ballot yesterday. I won't say who I voted for here, but I wanted to share this photo and caption that a good friend of mine shared with me.
© Callie Shell / Aurora for Time 
