I try to distance myself from my hopes and dreams. I tell myself they’re silly. I bury them ten feet deep. I throw them out of a moving car and don’t wait to see where they land or if they manage to tuck and roll. I flee when they make themselves known.
brokenness
Breaking a Wild Mustang
Your writing is like you: wild. It has to be tamed.
Writing from Brokenness
To write from a place of brokenness is no easy thing. It’s to come to the edge of what I know, the edge of comfort, and to peer over that edge and wonder if I can risk brokenness. Can I risk the vulnerability? Do I dare? Can I be what some might consider “weak”? In many cases, I can’t. I turn away. I retreat to safety because I have written from that place previously, and the things I’ve written have sometimes hurt people close to me.
Thank You for Believing in Me
This post probably is more suited for Thanksgiving, but it wasn’t ready to go then. Thus, I’m keeping the thankful spirit alive this week and, I hope, every week.
I sometimes forget how far I’ve come in the past year. This year has had difficult moments, but last year? Last year was a year of brokenness. The breaking was necessary. I needed to be stripped of certain things, namely a relationship and some clients. It only was through losing those things that I became teachable. I learned what I would and would not accept in a relationship, both personally and professionally. I learned where I did and did not need to change – alas, I probably am more stubborn than I ever was. I also learned what it was that I wanted and was meant to do, and it was to draw and write and to help people become better communicators.