Join us for a virtual writers retreat this October. Say hello to fresh inspiration, say good bye to excuses. #writerswrite
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Join us for a virtual writers retreat this October. Say hello to fresh inspiration, say good bye to excuses. #writerswrite
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My Oldest Living Relative
My oldest living relative would by my aunt, my mother’s sister. She was one of four children, and she had nine babies with my uncle. As a reward for a life well lived, she is our matriarch. It is so strange to move inevitably closer to that category: the elder generation. The wise ones. The ones with institutional memory. Where do the stories go when the elders are gone? Does the narrative lose its bite? Do the family mythologies soften around the edges like a cherished photograph carried for years in a wallet? Perhaps family stories are like an image that over time fades until only the ghost of an persona remains.
Stories I Tell Myself
There would be no more do-overs.
Brought to you with heart, courage, and a little dog too, by Journaling as Sacred Practice: An Act of Extreme Bravery. Available now on Amazon.
The poseur sprang a gassy leak.
Brought to you with savage indolence by Journaling as Sacred Practice: An Act of Extreme Bravery. Available now on Amazon.
The electeds sent messengers ahead with cake.
Brought to you with a soupcon of concern and a fierce sense of entitlement by Journaling as Sacred Practice: An Act of Extreme Bravery. Available now on Amazon.
Shiny objects did not distract them.
Brought to you like a revolutionary by Journaling as Sacred Practice: An Act of Extreme Bravery. Available now on Amazon.
There were disturbing examples of censorship.
Brought to you with courage, justice, and brazen vision by Journaling as Sacred Practice: An Act of Extreme Bravery. Available now on Amazon.