that isn't quite right...
how about this:
Give the people what you want to give. Give them the things that make you feel alive. Give them your poetry, your heart. Give what you can part with, and give just a little more.
But don't give away yourself, and don't give into the need to sell and sell.
I'm not doing a lot of things I could be doing, and I'm working on being okay with that. I am working on not needing to figure out what others want from me so I can give it and gain their approval.
What I want to do instead, is find what I can give, and give it.
Here's what I have right now:
I have this thing I do, where I find a story for you. You tell me what you are needing, what feels wrong, or where you are lost. Or you tell me your joy, the excitement you have about something new or old or beautiful. You tell me a little or a lot. And I find you a story.
Just for you.
When was the last time someone picked you out a story, a story that might have a key in it, or a treasure, or might just have the words you want to hear?
And then we figure out why and how this is your story, and what happens next. Together. It takes some trust, some willingness to step into that story.
It's what I have to give. Right now, I have stories waiting for the right people. And I have you -- you are waiting, some of you, for the right story.
If this sounds like something you want to receive, to give to yourself, you can go here and sign up.
I want to give this. Give what you want to give, and let the people who will receive it, do so.
*warning. this gets a little scatological. you've been warned.*
It's not working.
Trying to be anything other than what I am, who I am. Trying to make this into something that makes money, when all I want to do is play. Trying to be the perfect mom/wife/teacher/daughter/anything.
It doesn't work.
It binds me up, holds me back. Nothing flows. My creativity turns into nothing. My heart feels totally tightened and tugged. I snap, anxious and irritated by everything. I believe the lie that my life is something happening to me.
When I tell myself I have to be an expert.
When I tell myself I am failing as a Waldorf mother.
When I tell myself I am a failed teacher.
When I tell myself I am not enough. Not enough of anything.
And it all gets so very heavy.
Then I am afraid to write, to share, because it isn't good enough. It's not hip enough, bright enough, expert enough. I don't look good. I don't sound together and hop and high-frequency and spiritual.
And how does it manifest? Oh, people. All this shit has to get held somewhere.
And it comes down to this: Somewhere, I believe in the core of my being that I am never going to be good enough. That I am never going to the right kind of girl, even though I've been a woman for years and years. I believe I've missed the boat. That I'm too old to ever make my way.
And this blog should be better. Should really be about stories and storytelling and parenting and being a perfect waldorf teacher-mother-partner-artist-person.
And my storytelling isn't even happening on the level that people could call "professional."
And those are ALL LIES.
Is this bloodroot not good enough?
I'm never going to be anyone else. This blog is never going to be SouleMama or the Magic Onions. It won't be anybody else's blog. My courses aren't going to be like the ones other biography workers or storytellers or mom bloggers offer. I'm not them.
The work I'm doing right now? It matters. And even if I were serving coffee or entering data or sweeping streets or proposing legislation or performing surgery or performing puppet plays, it would matter. Work matters.
This ordinary life matters. And even if this blog isn't making me money, even if only 2 people sign up for a course I'm offering, even if I yell at my kid or leave the dishes in the sink for days or lose weight or gain weight, even if nothing changes, it matters.
and I'm tired of trying so hard, and of pretending, and of striving to be something else.
When I was in high school, I wrote a column for my school paper. I called it "Dust Particles," because I thought that was cool. I wrote about life. I wrote terrible poetry with one or two good phrases, because it felt good.
There's a forest of "I"s in this post, and I'm still going to publish it, because I need to prove to myself that this is good enough. Being here, telling you about my life. It's enough.
You are enough.
Your life is worth telling. You're enough.
I'm so delighted to be sharing some storytelling tips this week over at Waldorfish.com! Come learn three easy ways to get started with storytelling for the kids in your life!
Want to tell nature stories, but not sure where to start? Need help making your science curriculum come to life? Wishing you could help your children understand the world around them without resorting to dry facts and figures? Why not join us for a fun journey into storytelling with nature?!? We start in October, and you'll be ready after the very first day to dive in and tell stories that awaken wonder and joy about the natural world! Find out all about it here!
Hello, lovely ones! I have two videos to share with you right now. These are the facebook live videos I've shared in the past two weeks. One is about WHY we need fairy tale role models -- heroes and heroines. That one is here.
The second is a bedtime story -- Sweet Porridge! It's a sweet little tale, perfect for any time of day, really!
The doors open tomorrow for this new, fast and easy Story/Reading journey. This is a 2-week ecourse that will give you new fairytale eyes for the journey you are on, and help you to see yourself as the hero/ine of your own story! Can't wait to share this with you all! The course starts on August 20.
Let me be very clear: on this page, we believe that Black Lives Matter, science is real, no one is illegal, and all people, regardless of gender, are valuable and amazing expressions of the glorious beauty of the universe. We listen to children and elders. We share stories, because stories are how we make meaning in our world. Stories are absolutely vital to our existence. When someone tells you their story, do them the honor of LISTENING AND BELIEVING.
I choose to share stories that uplift and inspire, that delight and bring us to wonder. I do this because I feel it is deeply needed food for the journey. Please share your stories, please tell stories, and please, listen to stories new and old for the pulse of wisdom beating just under the surface.
Free, Seven-Day storytelling ecourse starts tomorrow! Are you in? Sign up at the link below, and you won't miss a thing!!
July 24, I'll start sending out the emails for the Storytelling Ecourse! This was a big hit 2 years ago when I last offered it, and I am really excited to offer it again. This course is seven days of daily emails, plus some audio stories, all centered on bringing storytelling to children in your care. This course is perfect for teachers, homeschoolers, and parents, as well as for anyone who spends time with kids and wants to tell some different kinds of stories. This is an beginner's course -- no experience necessary! -- but will contain depth, thoughtfulness, and big ideas that makeit appropriate for those seeking a re-connection as well!
You can sign up by following this link!
I am not stressing out about screen time. Well, not too much. We are well, well over the waldorf recommended amount for age 8 1/2 (uh, that is, none), and I'm fully conscious of this. And determined not to stress.
Sugar. Not stressing about sugar, except about how desperately I would like someone to deliver some DQ to my house, stat.
Whether it's okay to do some easy stuff or if I have to take a BIG LEAP RIGHT NOW. okay. I'm stressing a little bit about that. But it's kinda navel-gaze-y. And for this week, I'm more thinking about dinner. Because dinner is a big deal -- people seem to want it EVERY SINGLE NIGHT!
So that's something I am kind of stressing about, which means I need to find something I'm not stressing out over... oh no, now I'm stressed about too many prepositions!
I am not stressed out about fireworks. I love them, and our house is shut against the heat and humidity, so the poor dog is not being beset by too much noise.
So yeah, not stressing about three things. What three things are you refusing to stress out about this week?
Sara is a storyteller, writer, artist, teacher, wife, mother, and singer living in Minnesota. I write about storytelling, and about living a life with stories.