Tuesday, June 28, 2016

words.

I like to write. It clears my mind and makes me joyful. Looking back on things I've written in the past is a lovely little trip back in time as I recall the little moments that make up my little life. Sometimes I worry that the stuff I write here doesn't carry enough weight or matter enough or sound good enough. That's when I go quiet, filled with doubt. I mean, really, I could just be writing a journal and no one would know the difference. I think that, but then I hear from someone who was moved by a post and I think I should just do a little more writing. Words matter to me. They really, really matter. Through words, the crafty rearranging of 26 letters, I am moved to laughter and tears, compassion and understanding, questions and sometimes even a few answers, but usually just more questions as I ponder my place in this world, in this time, surrounded by these people.

I'm hoping to pop on here more often. Maybe you'll read. Maybe you'll scroll on past. I'm fine either way. We all have our stories to tell, and this is an easy way to record mine. I'd love to hear more of your stories, too.

For now, we'll spend the day prepping for this sweet boy's 8th birthday party, complete with a pinata, Star Wars obstacle course, and movie night.

  Peace for the journey, friends.

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