How old are we??

How in the heck did a writer who, historically, was stymied by her inability to put words to paper, initiate “This Being Human Thing?” Hey, that’s a great question, Jan. I thought you’d never ask!

You like transformation stories? Okey-doke, here we go!

Once upon a time, there was a woman, who, from girlhood, didn't perceive herself as a writer - creative or otherwise. She didn't consider herself particularly analytical and, somehow, believed (one of those “shoulds” picked up along the way) ALL writing germinated from an analytical process, building A onto B onto C - well, you get the gist. Writing for her was akin to that enormously frustrating Greek myth of Sisyphus slowly, laboriously, pushing a boulder uphill, only to watch it roll downhill again (and again and again.) Would you be motivated to do anything if you were always chased downhill by what seemed to be an irascible boulder?

Nope, nope, nope. This (then) young woman felt so bereft of writing skills that she talked a friend into helping her (alot) compose a graduate school application. (Oh no, oh no, do you think there’s a statute of limitations on such heresy?! Will they take away her degree? What if she promises never, ever, to sing Michigan’s fight song, “Hail to the Victors,” out of tune again? Is ALL lost?😉)

....So, where were we? Ah, yes, the aforementioned fearful writer caught in the bind of her analytical “shoulds” - a path that didn’t nurture her own authentic “voice” (assuming she had one…) Time passed (it does that) and she began to hear some whisperings and stirrings within. Those whisperings sounded like, just maybe, they were really truly and authentically hers. Oh, wow! BUT, wait, the voice sounded SO young at times! So youthful, full of “whoopees” and “wow’s.” An unrestrained joyful kid. Kind of embarrassing to have a voice within, one that feels so authentic, but sounds like a celebratory child.

But, wow, could that young voice write! She wrote flowingly, from the heart, with great humor, and reflected such deep aliveness. ALIVENESS! (Switching back to first person) I just felt so captured by the life bursting out of her, replete with those “wow’s,” OMG’s, and “yays,” language of which I was initially ashamed since it sounded so childlike. Um, rampant with enthusiasm, golly-gees, and wise at the same time? An oxymoron?

I’ll let you be the judge if you’ve been reading “This being human thing.” I will never be an analytical writer - ever. Not on my compass north. But I am so fortunate to have been captured by a spirited child whose voice of wisdom comes from god-knows-where. I’ll settle for calling it magic when the writing unfurls in totally unexpected ways….

So there 🙃.

❤️ I’d be very grateful if you’d consider sharing “This Being Human Thing.” Who couldn’t use more heart and humor?