“I returned to see that writing brought me joy. In that joy, I became a writer.”
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Welcome Back
On July 27, I opened a fresh composition book. The three notebooks before it held Morning Pages from February through June. Together, they carried me toward radioactive iodine treatment and then stopped. Now the treatment was behind me. My body wasn’t finished with it, but I had made it through. The first words on the…
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What Care Can Hold
Before the first appointment of the day, I had a conversation with Jeff about Bear. I already knew the truth. I couldn’t care for Bear physically or financially. Wanting him wasn’t enough. Taking him in when I couldn’t give him what he needed wouldn’t have been fair to either of us. Knowing that didn’t make…
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Redefining Surrender
This morning, I made a decision I had already made a long time ago. I’m going to my class reunion. I’m not entirely sure why I’m looking forward to it. That uncertainty is part of what feels right. I’m not going to prove anything. I’m not trying to recover the past or show anyone how…
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The Body Is Part of the Practice
By the seventh week of returning to Morning Pages, the ritual had become familiar.That morning was harder than most. My head felt foggy. I had only consumed one beer, but my body noticed it anyway. At least my handwriting was easier to read. “So what are we doing this morning?” I asked. The answer came…
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Keep It So Simple
We have a way of making growth harder than it needs to be. There’s an old acronym: K.I.S.S. I learned it as “Keep It Simple, Stupid.” I never liked that version. After years of being told I wasn’t smart enough, I didn’t need another phrase that used shame as motivation. I had already spent too…