It's true. It was all dark and roots poked at me everywhere and I couldn't move, at least I didn't think I could, and then one day something started pushing out of me. It was a strange feeling but it had a purpose and an energy that sought release, sought the light, and here I am to tell of it in glorious sunshine reaching taller, taller, every day as though I were still a child growing in bed at night.
I'm not afraid of the dark. I was born in it. So is my writing. It seeks the light. All souls do.
Let your writing out and I'll do the same for mine. It knows how to break through the surface. Trust it as it works its way upward until it shows its first leaves. These leaf pages will fall away eventually like childhood beliefs. Others will grow, stronger, better, fuller.
I commit to living with more joy, more vulnerability, more courage to Be My Self, aware of the darkness and little deaths I see each day in the world, in my community, in my self. Christ's light within me, God's light that cannot hold itself back - Turn your back, Moses, while I pass by. I know the intensity of my Light and Love. I don't want to hurt you - is my light. It would not shine so brightly if the darkness were not so prevalent. Don't we all need another person to show us courage, love, boldness, beauty, compassion, forgiveness? We feel it. We see it - shine your light - and like a doctor's tap on our knee, our heart moves outward reflexively. I will be that one person for someone. I will be that one today
and the next
and the next.
Writers are growing trees. Hug a writer today.
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