giving myself the time to write something long and considered and real, something I think my readers would want to read, kind of misses the point for me. I want to get through the excuses around writing, the myriad very good reasons I have not to write, and just write. Just write something, anything, because everything I say is telling the story of this day, this moment, this year. This life.
I have a growing feeling that storytelling is not going to let me go. It's been almost a year since I left my former position, and so much has changed. I have had to learn things I wish I hadn't, and it has made me more human, more understanding. I know myself better, and I know how little I know. I know very little. Teaching and storytelling keep coming back, no matter how I try to find a Real Job. This is what I do, and what I know to do.
There is not much I get asked for advice on these days. Not much I get asked about by people, outside of the questions inherent to the work I am doing. This means something.
Hi. That's me. I write, sometimes, about parenting, storytelling, and about living a life with stories.