RUNNING MONOLOGUE

Tell Me a Story

Stacey Libbert — Wed, 22 Feb 2012 22:05:57 GMT

It’s Day 4 of my week long writing retreat here in Kiawah Island, SC. I thought I would post a blog about this whole trip earlier than this, but I’ve pretty much been hammering it out since I got here, and anyone who has kids knows how much time and preparation it takes for Mommy to be gone for a week. To say I was busy before I left is an understatement, and now that I’m here, I’m really busy in a different way.

My goal for this week has been VOLUME. One of my tragic flaws as a writer is my uncanny ability to edit things before they are even down on paper. Spooky. Basically, I have a tendency to procrastinate or never finish pieces because my jerky inner critic is always telling me how crappy it’s going to be before it ever hits the page. That dude is on vacation this week. I came with the deliberate intention of writing as much as possible. Period.

I don’t care if it’s good or the worst crap in America; all I care about is page numbers. Now, this might sound like a terrible plan, but all writers know what I’m talking about. Revision is inevitable. There simply is no escape. The trick is having enough material to actually revise. If you’re too busy cutting out before ever putting in, well, you can see where this might be a problem.

So each day, I’m just pounding it out and watching that little word count go up and up and up. And, in truth, it’s pretty satisfying. I have told a lot of stories this week. Yep, I’ve told stories, which when I think about it is sort of the point of becoming a writer, isn’t it?

When I was a kid, I loved stories. I remember begging my parents and grandparents to “Please tell me a story about when you were little.” I loved going to the library, I loved the smell of old books and new ones too, I loved when the storytellers would come for Heritage Day or for Book Week, and I loved writing my own—folding pieces of paper in half, stapling them down the middle and writing and illustrating my own books. “I love to make books,” I always told my family, and I still do. Only now, I worry about what other people will think about the book, if a publisher will like the book, if I can sell the book, if the book might be worthy of a Newberry Medal. Geez. Talk about killing something before it ever gets started. That’s probably the quickest way I can think of to kill a happy little seed of creativity—tell it that it has to grow up to make lots of money and win accolades.

The joy is just in telling the stories and having people listen, which means, yes, I will want to publish at some point. But I swear, I am having so much fun just writing this week, that publication and the threats that lie within that whole world just haven’t seemed to matter.

And not only have I been telling my own stories, I’ve gotten to hear some amazing, heart-breaking, uplifting, poignant and downright hilarious stories too. I have some of the best housemates this week. Aside from being good cooks and knowing when and how to be extra quiet, they are some damned fine storytellers. In fact, Lois just crept in with a glass of wine because she didn’t want me “to miss out because when it’s gone, it’s gone.” Indeed.

I’m glad I chose not to miss out this week. I’m glad I chose not to miss out on getting away and just writing as much as possible, even if it’s not all great writing, and I’m glad I chose not to miss out on good friends who also happen to be good writers with a lot to teach me, and I’m glad I chose not to miss out on all these stories, both the telling of old ones and the creating of new ones.

We all have stories to tell. That’s what I think is so beautiful about them—everybody has one. My dream is to keep telling mine, to create stories that kids want to read because they make them laugh and cry and think about all the things that are possible because really, anything is. And I also hope to live a life that continually creates more stories, so that I never run out and so Harper Lee and Isaac can keep the tradition alive.

Tell a story to someone—especially a child.

It's Never Too Late to Play

Stacey Libbert — Thu, 16 Feb 2012 18:15:28 GMT

Every day feels like laundry day around here; it always seems I'm toting it, sorting it, folding it, putting it away, or yelling at someone else to put it away. But today is for REAL laundry day. So far, I have run seven loads, and the finish line is in sight. I still have to fold all of it, of course, but it's at least almost all clean.

I have fallen behind (as I often tend to do) because we have been on a roller coaster of illnesses, doctor's appointments, x-rays, and general craziness for about two weeks, and now, I'm getting ready to go on my much anticipated writing retreat, and I need to make sure that everyone has clean underwear before I go.

As I'm writing, it occurs to me that this blog entry is probably going to look about like that pile of laundry-- colorful but messy. When I drop off the blog radar for a while, I realize all the fun things we've done and all I've missed recording, and trying to capture all of it seems impossible or at least boring.

Besides sitting in various waiting rooms this week, we did manage to see the circus, learn to knit, and build a mack-daddy fort in the woods. The fort, actually, has been our saving grace during an otherwise pretty crappy couple of weeks.

Five weeks ago, Harper Lee broke her ankle and has been in a cast or clunky boot ever since. For any kid, this kind of thing is hugely inconvenient, but for Harper Lee, it has been total misery. Not being able to run or jump or practice kung-fu kicks on her brother has been a source of some fairly significant depression and general foul-temperedness.

The weather, however, has been super, so we have tried to take advantage of our very un-February like days and get outside for fresh air and creative play. The kids have an awesome treehouse in the woods that they love, but for some reason, they have been particularly drawn to a fallen tree on the other side of the woods for quite some time.

The other day, they began working on hollowing out the tree and building a hide-out. This was fun, dirty work that allowed Harper Lee to be outside without putting unnecessary pressure on her ankle. I even went down and helped scoop out the soft wood and a few grubs along the way. I have to say that besides a good, long trail run or a pack of crayons and a new coloring book, digging out the innards of a rotting tree is one of my top choices for therapy and well-being. I'm not kidding.

And apparently, it works for lots of people. My friend, Jason, came by on Saturday to drop off a new technical shirt he'd gotten me and a heart rate monitor before heading on up to Stone Mountain for a long run. We chatted for a while, and then the kids announced that they were going down to work on the fort and asked Jason to come down to see it. He did.

I stayed behind to throw in laundry (no way!) and to make a phone call. A little while later, I glanced out the window and saw that Jason's truck was still in the driveway. I went to the kitchen window and saw Jason down on his hand and knees digging furiously at the base of the tree.

Later, when I went down to announce lunch, I found all three of them working diligently at stuffing moss and leaves into the holes that remained in their teepee fort. All three came back to the house for sandwiches, chips and hot chocolate.

Jason laughed at himself and said that he hoped I didn't think it strange that he came over to play in the woods but that he missed that element of play in his life. He also commented that he thought that's one of the things he loved most about trail running; it has a sense of play and adventure that even adults can enjoy. It made me wonder why grown-ups don't take the time to play as much.

Apparently, Jason was also pondering this question when he left our house that afternoon because he posted this essay on his blog, which I thought was a pretty interesting take on the therapeutic benefits of play.

Maybe Jason and I are just weirdos-- in fact, I think that's a safe assumption-- but, I swear, if we all took the time to just mess around, to dig in the dirt, to play and see where it leads, like our kids do, we would probably all be a lot happier.

That's one of the reasons I try so hard to be engaged with the kids and to play on their level. Sometimes it's really hard. I have things to do, deadlines to meet, and laundry to fold. And sometimes, I just get set in my grown-up ways, and I just don't want to be bothered. We need to be bothered more.

Things like Saturday afternoon remind me that laundry will always be here, but opportunities to dig up grubs and watch them wiggle in your hand with people who are in love with life and looking at everything with new eyes (the way we should all live) are fleeting. Be bothered to play, to look up at the winter sky and to stop and look at what's beneath your feet. This is your life.

Think about what you really loved doing as a kid. Do it now.

This Moment

Stacey Libbert — Thu, 09 Feb 2012 03:33:02 GMT

Stop. Look around. What's most important? Tell them.

Wild Kingdom

Stacey Libbert — Sun, 05 Feb 2012 00:13:45 GMT

Our house has always been a little like Wild Kingdom. We have never, since we moved to this old house in 1997, had any shortage of stray dogs and barn cats. In fact, when we moved in, we were informed that the house came with two beautiful, tortoiseshell cats, one of whom was pregnant. We didn't know it at the time, but when we got back from the beach that summer, we had a box full of kittens in the barn. Shortly thereafter, everyone was fixed. And we've pretty much kept our vet in business with our constant stream of animals who need to be spayed or neutered.

The past year, we sort of closed a chapter on one group of animals, many of whom lived with us for several years, and we have opened one with a younger group. Freckles came a year ago this past Thanksgiving and is a super sweet cuddle bug who loves to play AND take naps. Mabel is Harper Lee's kitten, if you recall, that we adopted on the Fourth of July. Despite being the runt of the litter, she has grown nicely and has turned into a murderous menace. I don't like the ruthless and horribly SLOW way cats torture and kill mice, so I have historically used humane traps that allow me to trap the mice and then set them free in the woods. Mabel, being the smart cookie she is, opens the traps and take the mouse out. How's that for a little bit freaky?

If this photo had a soundtrack, you would be able to hear a low, threatening growl that doesn't quite match up to that pretty little face. She is quite protective of her kill.

Fortunately, this mouse is not Archer, who did pass away last week. Isaac was pretty upset, but after a funeral in the rain during which we buried Archer the Mouse in a fancy red jewelry box lined with cotton, Isaac put the cage away and said that, "I would like to have another mouse someday, but not for a few months." I thought this was very mature for a six year old.

In addition to our regular cat and dog population, though, I've decided to take the plunge on something I've been thinking about forever (seems I'm doing a lot of that lately). Rob repaired, refurbished, and repainted our old chicken house. It was really a nice building but had fallen into pretty bad disrepair. Now it's ready for new chickens.

This spring, we are getting some chicks. Our neighbor has always shared his eggs with us, but we are just one family of many on his delivery list, so we can't always count on them. Besides, my grandmother raised chickens, and I loved feeding them and gathering the eggs. There's nothing better than fresh eggs. I haven't yet decided on a rooster. The kids really want one, but I may wait. Roosters are not always the most well-mannered animals; it might be a crap shoot.

If anyone has advice regarding good laying hens, let me know. I find that I'm researching all sorts of things recently so I'll just add this to my ever-growing list.

Next on the list-- a goat! Rob's not completely on board with this, but Harper Lee and Isaac are agreeable.

Between our CSA (which begins deliveries again in May!) and my vegetable garden that I'm planning to expand this year and my chickens, I see a lot of good, healthy whole foods in our future. I can't say I've marked the whole grocery store thing off my to-do list or that I'm as brave as Barbara Kingsolver in her Animal, Vegetable, Miracle experiment, but it's a start.

What We're Reading

Stacey Libbert — Sat, 28 Jan 2012 02:43:37 GMT

Winter is not usually my favorite season. I don’t like the cold, and I don’t necessarily want to be out in it more than I need to be. I miss working in the garden and running in shorts and just playing outside in a t-shirt and flip-flops. Most winters, I end up feeling pretty blah.

I had decided that this winter would be different. I was going to embrace the whole hibernation/ snuggle up approach to winter, and so far, it’s working. (I think working on projects during the day that inspire and excite me helps, but that’s another story.) Part of my winter hibernation is reading… lots and lots and lots of books.

I am a reader all year round. My whole family is. But this year, I have begun the practice of reading more than one book at a time, and I like it very much. There are just too many fun things to read, and I can’t wait to begin some of them.

My latest passion is reading and re-reading juvenile fiction. I loved, loved, loved reading as a kid, and I can remember so many wonderful books that absolutely pulled me in and created worlds for me that I have never forgotten. All of Beverly Cleary’s books fall into that category as do Caddie Woodlawn, Island of the Blue Dolphins, The Witch of Blackbird Pond, and anything by Laura Ingalls Wilder.

Harper Lee is developing very different tastes and doesn’t always like the same books I enjoyed, but she has introduced me to a lot of new ones as well. I recently discovered Lois Lowry. I have a copy of The Giver, but I haven’t read it yet. It’s on the end table right now waiting to be picked up. Harper Lee just finished The Willoughby’s, and I finished Gossamer last night. We plan to trade this afternoon.

I’m finding myself particularly drawn to these books I think because much of my own writing seems to be turning in that direction. Some of my favorite pieces that I’ve been working on recently would probably be categorized as juvenile fiction, and I’ve developed a curiosity about what else is out there. The styles and genres and subject matter all vary greatly, and frankly, I’ve been surprised by all the new books and topics I’ve discovered. It’s been quite an adventure.

We should never fall into that snobby grown-up attitude that literature is only for adults. I have run across some particularly fine pieces of literature that are most certainly for kids. I think sometimes there is an attitude that writing for kids couldn’t possibly be that difficult. It’s just all about seeing the dog run, right? To assume so is to vastly underestimate the mind of a child.

In fact, as a writer, I’m beginning to think that no one deserves a finely crafted sentence more than a young reader eager to learn about the world and open to the possibilities of anything and everything. I know that literature certainly affected me in profound and positive ways, and I can think of nothing better than writing something that might have the same effect on someone else.

I joked with the librarian the other day, as I was dropping off yet another donation box of books, that I had to cull my shelves because our house was beginning to look like that of a crazy person’s. There are books and magazines stacked everywhere on every conceivable surface, so I decided to donate and share some of the wealth. Of course, we’ve only managed to fill up the spots that were briefly empty. Some of them are from the library, but others were recently ordered on Amazon or taken from friends who are also in the process of clearing clutter.

The truth is I will never have neat bookshelves—you know, those that are actually color coordinated in the home design magazines. What’s up with that? All green bindings on one shelf and all blue on the other? I just don’t see it. Books are meant to be pulled off the shelf often, opened and placed face down on a table or chair arm while you get another cup of coffe, dog-eared, and written in with notes and smiley faces in the margins. They are meant to be read and savored, touched and smelled, loved and made real like the Velveteen Rabbit.

Here’s my reading list right now:

The Good and Beautiful God by James Bryan Smith

Gilead by Marilynne Robinson

Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close by Jonathan Safran Foer

One Year to a Writing Life by Susan M. Teberghien

The Boy Who Sang the Birds by John Weston

The Willoughbys by Lois Lowry

Isaac is currently reading:

Alvin Ho- Allergic to Girls, School, and Other Scary Things by Lenore Look

*just finished Otis Spofford by Beverly Cleary

*ANYTHING that has to do with natural disasters or sharks

HarperLee is currently reading:

The Hobbit by J.R.R. Tolkien

The Adventures of Tin-Tin

Gossamer by Lois Lowry

What are your favorite books from childhood? What about as an adult? Leave your comments here with books we should add to our reading list. Bring on the books!

Become a Free Spirit!

Stacey Libbert — Thu, 19 Jan 2012 18:12:31 GMT

Welcome to Shannon Kinney-Duh of Free Spirit Knits

I told you that I had some exciting new things planned for the blog, and one of those is my interview with Shannon Kinney-Duh of Free Spirit Knits. She is one of my favorite artists and bloggers, and her e-course “Inside Out” was a brilliant introduction to art journaling and this awesome blogging community that I’ve grown to love.

I took Shannon’s course during the summer of 2010, thus beginning my journey to where I am now, which is a pretty good place. I think Shannon’s class took me by the shoulder, shook me a little and woke me up to the fact that I wasn’t quite living up to my potential.

I signed up on a whim; I wanted to see how an e-course worked in case I ever wanted to teach one someday, and the artist part of me thought it would be fun to stretch my creative muscles a little. Since I was able to hold a jumbo crayon, I have loved art and making things so it seemed like a great summer project that I could enjoy on my own and with the kids.

What I got was a reminder of how much I missed that creative part of my life. I grew up with an artist grandmother who spent her days making and painting and crafting and collecting and all along the way, telling me stories. Those days in my grandmother’s studio were the foundation of who I am, but since adulthood, I had let that part of me go. I didn’t paint much, and when I did, I stuck it away somewhere because I didn’t think it was very good. I colored with Harper Lee and Isaac, but I never just sat down with my own art supplies and painted or doodled or created fun messes just for the sake of creating. Shannon’s class brought all the good things that come from expressing myself creatively flooding back. It even helped me get back into creative writing.

Since her class, I’ve filled up numerous art journals, created a few pieces for myself and for friends, begun trying new mediums and projects, signed up for other classes, completed an impressive number of writing journals, and made the leap to writer/artist as my job, and I’m happier than I’ve been in ages. There was a lot of work in between, but I credit Shannon’s course for giving me the jump-start I needed and for reminding me what is really most important.

Shannon is a self-proclaimed free spirit who believes we should all be bold explorers of our lives and live with an open mind and heart, and she encourages those she comes in contact with to do just that with her warm smile, words of encouragement and brilliant example. And she was gracious enough to agree to do an interview with me for my readers. Here’s what she had to say.

Shannon, tell us about your own creative journey. How do you incorporate creative living into your everyday life?

I was longing to live a creative, authentic life for a very long time. It wasn’t until after I graduated from college and had to start looking for work that I really dove deeper into my creative search. I just wasn’t happy doing work that didn’t feed my soul. I met a group of women who were on a similar journey at the time, and we read “The Artist’s Way” by Julia Cameron together. And that was the start to my healing through creativity.

I think my path took a more courageous turn when I became a mother. There was no hiding at that point. Meaning, I cried every day I had to drop off my 5 month old to daycare, so it forced me to take bigger risks towards living a creative life, because what I learned is that ultimately I wanted to be home with my children and do the creative work I so enjoy with them and around their schedule.

So now I incorporate creativity into my everyday because it’s pretty much essential when parenting two small children! We have an art room where we spend a lot of time together. We paint, we build, we discover, and we get messy together. I teach them a little, but mostly I let them lead the way and they are the ones teaching me.

You often say that we are all creative beings. What do you mean and how would you respond to people who say, “I’m just not creative”?

I was one of those people who used to say, “I’m not creative.” I definitely did not believe I was an artist, and that was a very limiting belief about myself. So I know what that feels like and I still meet adults every day who say the same thing.

I learned through my own self-discovery, art exploration and yoga practice and study that we are the creator of our own lives. That can be a hard concept to grasp, but when you get it and start believing that you can create a life you love, rather than one you don’t, you start to see that anything is possible.

My yoga practice also taught me that thoughts become things. I learned that when I kept repeating the story, “I’m not creative,” well that’s exactly what I became. So when I learned to change my thoughts to something more positive is when I saw real change in my life.

What do you think is so important about embracing your creativity and expressing it?

I feel that creativity is the gateway to your intuition. The more time you make to explore and express your creativity, the more connected you stay to your authentic self. And when you have a clear connection to that inner place, the more in alignment you are with your true path. When you get more comfortable expressing your creativity, you will learn how to enjoy the process of creating, rather than worrying about the outcome. And being in the flow of the present moment is when you’ll hear your inner voice, feel your inner strength and see a connection between the two.

It seems that many people are looking for ways to “be happier.” Why do you think there is such an overwhelming number of books, websites and programs devoted to the idea of happiness? What do you see as the “key” to unlocking this concept that many people find so elusive?

I think from a very early age we are programmed to look for quick and easy fixes. We learn how to please others, how to fit in and we get really good at looking to outside sources for approval. This continual search outside ourselves keeps us disconnected to the happiness that truly lives within. So we keep searching and looking “out there.” But eventually, hopefully sooner than later, we learn that nothing “out there” can truly make us happy. Happiness does come from within. So slowing down and finding quiet stillness are “key” to reconnecting to our heart centers – the source of our wisdom. When we start from the inside is when we’ll find peace of heart and the happiness we are all looking for.

I often view creativity, in its many forms, as a type of spiritual practice. What connections do you see between being creative and being spiritual?

Life is a school and we are here to learn from it. Our journey is a spiritual one as we are beings having a human experience. Trying new things, thinking new thoughts, exploring, being curious, facing fears, and making mistakes – which are all aspects of creativity – are just as important on the spiritual path. We aren’t here to be perfect, just as the act of creating or our spiritual practice isn’t meant to be perfect. The more we fail the better because it allows us to learn along the way.

I see that when I face the blank page and get ready to paint, I can easily get nervous. I may want to turn back, resist, organize the art room yet again – do anything else but face it. But, when I remember to be kind to myself, to have fun with the process and that it’s just paper, I can usually get my hands messy and begin. And that’s very similar to the spiritual process. There may be challenges in our lives, like that blank paper, that bring up fear, but if we can accept the fear, embrace it, and walk forward, that’s when the true learning happens. That’s when the true creating occurs. And that’s when the spiritual practice expands to a new level.

What advice would you offer someone who wants to explore his or her own creativity but doesn’t know where to begin?

Simply begin. Take yourself to the art section at the bookstore. Look through some magazines. Start reading creative and inspiring blogs. Sign up for that class. Find those that are doing what you secretly wish you could do. Because once you start surrounding yourself with that kind of inspiration you will soon learn that YOU can do those things, too. Even though you don’t feel creative now, remember, many of those people you see creating used to feel the very same way. Look for community and surround yourself with support. And remember, there will always be fear when learning something new, so accept that fear will be there, and then slowly face that fear with one small step at a time. And remember to be especially kind to yourself along the way. (Negative self-talk does you no good!)

Tell us a little bit about your logo, “I’m a Free Spirit.” What does being a free spirit mean to you?

A free spirit to me is someone who is less interested in conforming and more interested in diving deeper into her own heart. She is a life-explorer who thinks freely, with an open mind, heart and soul. She has the courage to live her truth and as she discovers the beauty and joy within her and all around her, she inspires others to do the same.

Tell us a little bit about some of your projects that are currently underway and any new projects on the horizon?

The 6^th session of my e-course “Inside Out: A Creative Adventure of Self-Discovery” is coming up January 23^rd, 2012. This course encourages you to become a bold explorer of your dreams and inspires you to celebrate your authentic brilliance through art journaling, writing, guided meditation and yoga principles, all while connecting to a like-minded community of women from all over the world.

I will be taking the entire next year to work on creating my newest e-course, “Mothering with heART” which will invite mothers to enrich their creativity alongside their children, while reconnecting to their authentic way of mothering.

I also have a new website coming out in January, which will host my blog where I write about creativity, wellness and mindful living. It will also offer a safe online community where free spirits can connect with each other.

And of course my biggest and best project is to continue creating space in my life, being present for and with my two little boys, and making lots of messes along the way!

Thanks, Shannon, for all you do to help others recognize the treasures they hold!

Check Shannon’s art and blog out at www.freespiritknits.blogspot.com and be on the lookout for upcoming e-courses. It is so worth it!

Do I Have a Tribe?

Stacey Libbert — Tue, 17 Jan 2012 18:05:35 GMT

“Be who you are and say what you feel because those who mind don’t matter and those who matter don’t mind.” -Dr. Seuss

One of my favorite pastimes over the last year has been reading other people’s blogs, which has its upside and its downsides. The up side is that I get to “meet” many interesting people all over the country, some of whom resonate with me very much. I laugh, am challenged in my thinking, discover new and creative ways of doing things, connect with other women and writers, and am met with a lot of positive attitudes.

The downside is that I do the inevitable comparison, particularly with blogs that have a large readership. What are some common elements? What niche does each blog fill? How do they reach so many people? What’s the appeal? And, most importantly, how does my blog compare?

You see where this is going, right? Pretty soon, blog led unto blog, and I was very quickly sucked into the world of linking from one person to the next until I was confused and lost and completely overwhelmed by all my blog “should be.” I became frantic about my content. Who was this mythical “tribe” so many writers kept referring to? Did these tribes vary that much? Was anyone who said they were in a “tribe” pretty much a stereotype themselves? Was I writing for the right audience? How could I write about running and being a mom and living a creative life and spirituality and my church and teaching and cooking and stupid “life” stuff without alienating at least half of this “tribe” at every turn? My head began to spin. Maybe I should just quit.

I mean, men read this blog. Some of my friends read this blog. My mother-in-law reads this blog. Runners read this blog. Artists read this blog. A whole bunch of people I don’t know read this blog. How could I possibly write for all of them and have them care enough to return? And how could I get even more seemingly unrelated people to read it? Who, exactly, is my tribe?

I asked Rob. “Who do you think my tribe is?”

He thought for a moment and said, “I think your tribe is probably extinct. They killed each other off.”

OK—not what I was looking for though I did have to laugh.

See, the problem is not really any of my readers; it’s me.

Here’s What I Am

Writer, artist, runner, coach, mother, Christian, volunteer, wife, daughter, teacher… and-- get ready for it—a Republican.

Here’s What I Love

Running, writing, drawing, coloring, reading, books of all kinds, old movies, John Wayne, gardening, animals, sitting on the porch and doing nothing, hiking, the mountains of North Carolina, history, red lipstick, hippie clothes, Irish punk, Scotland, old people, making mud pies and sand sculptures, birds, hot baths, candles, chocolate, kickin’ ass, and cold beer.

Here’s How I Am

Funny, good-hearted, spiritual, creative, disorganized, late, passionate, tough, a procrastinator, cheerful, and foul-tempered. Basically, I believe in loving others as ourselves and peace when possible, but I also believe that there are times when it is absolutely necessary to kick somebody’s ass and that they do, in fact, deserve to have the crap kicked out of them.

See where this might be a problem? My sensitive, artist friends were with me until that last part, my Democrat friends were with me until I said I was a Republican, and my more conservative friends were probably offended by my use of the word ass. I am, as my sophomore English teacher once wrote in my journal, a “series of pleasant contradictions.”

How could someone like me possibly find a tribe? Is there a tribe of red lipstick wearin’, knife totin’, physically fit, artistic moms out there who hate telephones and texting and love old movies and running through the mud as much as I do? If so, pass this blog along to them because try as I might, I just can’t be anything other than who I am—nasty temper, chronic lateness, and smelly running shoes included.

As I grow into this new vocation of writer/artist, I am constantly reminded of a lesson I have learned over and over again. Trying to be anything other than exactly what you are never ends well. In the past, I’ve tried to teach like others, write like others, run like others, and live like others because I thought others had the inside track to success, but every single time, and I mean EVERY time, it ended in failure. Whenever I have been successful in my life, it has been because I have followed my own way.

People will either love my writing and my books and my blog or they won’t. Those who do are my tribe. And even if my tribe is small, I will know that it is mine and came to me because I was true to myself alone.