non-fiction.
The Inside Story
Autobiography. That's all I have. That's all you have. Our own life. Our own story.
Filled with chapters of good times and bad. Highs and lows. Sickness and health. Success and struggles. Cordial words and smack talk.
So in reality it should be no surprise to me that this blog is more personal than I envisioned. I didn't expect the words to have a mind of their own. A story to tell. Beans to spill.
Right now other topics just seem to get shipwrecked. No thoughts. No ideas. It's like laboring over a term paper. Forced. Contrived. Not authentic.
Instead words of encouragement come pouring out. Words I need to hear. Truths I long to believe. Ideas I want to embrace.
These words do not come from a place of perfection. Or superiority. Or knowing it all. They come from the heart of one who wholeheartedly "did not sign up for this" either. Broken and battered. Incomplete and flawed. All that I am. My story.
I've come to the conclusion that I can only write these words that are front and center. The ones determined to spew out. The words that push and shove as if pressed for time. Like a soundtrack on repeat.
And in this way I see the bigger picture. Writing is connection. If I feel this way maybe you do too? There is mutual understanding. Reciprocity. We are kindred's.
My life is different from yours. But, if we talked for more than 30 minutes I believe we could find common ground. Because if I'm living crazy there's a good chance you are too. This is not the land of old wives' tales.
The question is can I be vulnerable enough to share? To go first. Risk. Be brave enough to throw off the facade of perfection.
I believe it is in life's hardships where connection resides. The salve of understanding heals our bruises. The comfort of hearing "me too" restores our heart. Gives hope. Delivers encouragement.
I am trying to be open to my story. I am trying to accept my life's journey. I am trying to use my experiences for growth and wisdom and empathy. For it seems that only in living my life can I find my true purpose.
Tell your story.
Live your life.
Be You.
“My story isn’t sweet and harmonious, like invented stories. It tastes of folly and bewilderment, of madness and dream, like the life of all people who no longer want to lie to themselves. ”