authenticity in my sixties
I use to lay awake at night, words bouncing around in my head just aching to get out of all that chaos, and down onto paper. I would start a blog post, only to shift gears over and over until I had it the way I needed it to be. Writing was a need for me, I see that now. It was a way of healing. But lately my head, my brain, and my heart are peaceful and quiet.
“There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.”
― Maya Angelou, I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings
I still need to write, daily in fact. I write in my journal and here on the photo I take most days. I plaster yellow sticky notes here and there, full of words and quotes and page numbers. And right now, I am working on a few essay for Hello There, Friends. As terrified as I was to be chosen to be part of the amazing team of writers, I find the writing fulfilling, challenging and authentic. It is inspiring for me to focus on gratitude, to narrow a tiny moment down and find the joy and beauty within that moment and to write about it. It is thought provoking to turn something very messy in life, into something grand and glorious by taking a closer look. I write, I edit, I rewrite, I change things up, and stop and start all over until I have it the way I need it to be. And for right now, it is what I want to do.
This space has always had a mind of its own, and I have allowed it to morph and change, grow and slow down as needed. Right now I need to write with a different purpose and allow this space to be home to other obsessions. I am still going to post a photo "most days" along with a few words, because that is such a deep-seeded part of my life and I am not ready to abandon it. And because my camera is such an essential part of my day I will be posting photos here. Photos with more intention and authenticity and of course photos of Basil.
“Do whatever brings you to life, then. Follow your own fascinations, obsessions, and compulsions. Trust them. Create whatever causes a revolution in your heart.”
― Elizabeth Gilbert, Big Magic: Creative Living Beyond Fear