Sunday, October 28, 2012
i don't even know how to begin. that's always been my trouble. i suppose i've been greedy to write since i was so young i don't remember the before.
( i could go so many directions from here. i'm pausing. thinking. you'll know the end result about the same time i do.)
i was encouraged, but i was scared. perhaps the encouragement hinged on the end result rather than the doing, and the searching that needed to fuel the doing, and so i always viewed writing as just another way in which i wasn't going to be good enough.
our windows are so dark now and i'm genuinely scared that there may be danger ahead. we are ready for and surely even relishing the gathering in and holding close.
tomorrow we will all be here. and so differently from a snowday where we shovel and play and eat and drink so much more sugar and honey than we normally would,
we will be hearing and feeling every creaking branch and snapping limb as if they were our own bones.
or maybe it will all blow over.
either way. we'll be here.
Posted by Tara Thayer at 10:48 PM