I love to write. I love putting words together, words that paint a picture or describe a moment or capture a mood. That being said, I'm not a writer. Before any kindhearted soul steps in with well-meaning affirmations, hear me out. As much as I love to write and do so occasionally, the truth is I don't write nearly enough to describe myself as such.**
My friend Margaret runs nearly every day, come hell or high water. She is a runner.
My nephew Jordan farms from sun up to sundown. He is a farmer.
I recently had the honor of proofreading an educator's manuscript on the topic of trauma informed pedagogy. It was (is) an amazing work and I look forward to buying a copy upon its publication. This educator writes. Every. Single. Day. She uses a Twitter hashtag #didyouwritetoday to encourage others to write. Daily. Whether they feel like it or not. Rain or shine. Write.
My friend Alex writes every day, whether she feels like it or not. She is a writer.
So that's what I'm going to do. I'm going to write. I have no aspirations of being a great writer or a published writer or a well-known writer. I do, however, long to be a better writer, one who puts words together to say things that need to be said in a way that is clear and truthful and worth a person's time.
I want to be a writer. If I commit to adding words to this little website for longer than a few months, my hope is that I will be.
**Several years back I managed to keep a little blog (KaribuAdoption) going for a while but my reasons for writing changed and I got busy and the title of the whole endeavor no longer sat well with me so I let it go. Since then I've written in personal journals but not in any committed or consistent way. A few dear people have recently gently pushed me, including my son Sam who helped design this website and suggested that I add my photos in addition to my words; my husband Devan who thinks I'm happier when I write; and my friend Rhonda who encouraged me to pick up my pen again . . . so here I go.