don't wait to believe in yourself. don't wait to believe in a change.
recognize your quest, or notice that you've been left with nothing but a cat, or a doll, or a pair of iron shoes and and iron staff. that what you relied on is gone, that you are on your own, but not without help.
walk into the forest. even if it is full of mosquitoes and unseen crawling things. even if it is dark. especially if it is full of trees that call to your heart.
walk into the forest, even if it is bright and sunlit and full of flowers. even if the birds are singing full-throated.
if you know where you are going, ask the way. someone will tell you.
you see, you think you are at the end, where the happily-ever-after belonged, where you would be united with your truest goal in unbreakable union.
not so. or really, not only so.
because we are always only beginning, and we are always in the woods, and we are always returning.
There is no one story. There is every story, always, all at once.
it is not the story that changes. it is that you choose to step onto the path. you choose to be the queen again, to be the prince, to hold the power of being vulnerable and foolish and open-hearted.
but you have to start, before you are ready, before you believe. and you step into the forest, and into the sea, and into the palace and the dark closet and the candy house and the battlefield full of talking dead.
the story doesn't change. you do.
Hi. That's me. I write, sometimes, about parenting, storytelling, and about living a life with stories.