I hope you dance
You need a journal for your journey, and how you are going to fill it is one
big mystery. The words haven’t come yet. Maybe the story hasn’t
happened. What are you going to say? Where are you going to start? How
are you going to feel? Embarrassed? Will you ever let someone else read
what you’ve written? You don’t have to decide right now. There are plenty of
blank pages in the world. And any of those could be filled by you. Who
knows how many of those books are meant to be in your life.
There are people in this world who wouldn’t know what to do with all this
space. But that’s not you. And there are some people who wouldn’t want to
reveal or dig down deep, or talk about what scares them. But that’s not you
either. You’re a dancer. You know that time is a wheel in constant motion.
And you know if you ever start to wonder where those years have gone, all
you have to do, is open a book that has been filled with time, and you.
You really don’t have to be careful of what you write. Maybe someday some
unborn grandchildren will find one of your books in a box in a trunk in an
attic. Maybe they’ll see that your writing wasn’t perfect…and love you more
for it. Maybe they’ll discover a new type of writing they like… and feel closer
to you because of it.
And please don’t tell anyone you’ll start tomorrow! Pick up a permanent
pen (pencils have erasers, and if you have something to say, you’ll write it
and not back down.) and think:
“Brain, start your engines!
Nonbelievers, shut your yaps!
Ready or not, here I write.”

