I had a friend sitting in my kitchen a while ago, staring wistfully out the window towards the lake and the misty mountains beyond. If I lived in a place like this, she said, I know it would be easier. I’d have space to do those things I dream of. You know, to really be
I wrote a great article the other day, poking another hole in the myth about us not having time to create and pursue our dreams. I write about this particular topic over and over again, because I know this is one of your issues too. It’s the number one reason people give for not going
I was raped as a child. I was raped by my grandfather and later by another man close to our family. This is the first time I write these words publically. I’ve written about being sexually abused before, but I’ve never written “by him and by him” and it still feels like breaking the rules
I’m a highly introverted woman. Not shy, not afraid to meet new people or speak publically when it’s called for, but my need for time alone is massive. I revel in solitude, in silence, in the slow and the moment to moment appreciation of beauty around me. I’m a thinker, a dreamer, a watcher,
“Vocation does not come from willfulness. It comes from listening. I must listen to my life and try to understand what it’s truly about – quite apart from what I would like it to be about – or my life will never represent anything real in the world, no matter how earnest my intentions.”
It’s a time of wish lists. The kids write long and meticulous lists covering everything from hamsters to happiness. I try my hand at it too, encouraged by the children, but my lists tend to be very short these days. I don’t want that much anymore. There is plenty of pretty stuff I wouldn’t
Fear will come at different stages of the creative process for different people. But one stage that trips most of us up is the first draft stage. Whatever your line of work is, there is an equivalent of a shitty first draft. That first rough version, somewhere between blueprint and finished product. It’s a skeleton,
“As the years pass, I find that I just don’t have the patience to sit and type on a computer all day long, the way I used to. I feel time moving by quickly, the years roaring by, and I don’t want to suddenly find myself being 80 years old, thinking, “Oops! I spent most
