So many of these are where I am right now (down to the tantrum flop and sore back/strong arms). Thanks for writing this and reminding me that I’m not the only one, and that we’re all trying. And trying is good. And your bits about the kiddos cracked me up. One of my favorite funny/mortifying kid moments was when my son screamed into the silence “WANT MONEY!” when the lector asked us to pray for our personal intentions during the prayer for the faithful (he’d seen the ushers getting the collection baskets ready and wanted to put money in them). Gotta love the circus!
Definitely have gotten that! On the flip side, my youngest has started doing some liturgical dance during the musical portions and really has latched onto “true God, true God” in the creed. And my oldest has gotten very good at saying the right responses in prayer about a beat after everyone else does and causing the priest and congregation to chuckle more than once.
I love it when they start to follow along. The almost three year old is a stinker fifty percent of the time but has also started echoing prayers. I always come back to the fact that they have to be there to learn how to be there.
Exactly! And God is so good-on some of the toughest mass days when I’m just so frustrated at this season of mass being active and other focused rather than contemplative and personally prayerful, those are the days when we’ve had parishioners come up and thank us for bringing our kids to mass. I couldn’t handle jt nearly as well if it wasn’t for how absurdly welcoming and understanding the people at our church have been.
The tantrum flop! My 10mo just started this, and I absolutely don’t remember my now-2yo doing it. It’s hilarious when I’m regulated and so so frustrating when I’m not.
Two of our boys were "collapsers." They didn't yell or whine . . . they simply collapsed to the ground whenever we asked them to do something they didn't want to do :)
It’s my second who’s doing it too and wasn’t something my oldest really did. And I agree, it’s funny when I’m in a good place (she reminds me of a Disney Princess throwing herself on a bed to cry) and drives me crazy when I just want to get something done and she’s delaying the process
For what it's worth, I always look forward to your writing — even though there's a lot of people writing out there. :) And I'm so sorry about your friend. Those "early deaths" are so jarring and disorienting.
I was thinking out loud to my husband the other day about how a lot of the Lent musings I have come across are people who admittedly have more perfectionist, overachiever, and/or tendencies toward scrupulosity... trying to rightly correct some wrong approaches. But where's the writers who deal with the vice of sloth, who are fine being perfectly adequate in life??? lol I cannot relate to the educational or spiritual overachievers in the same way. haha For me, I *do* often need people to kick me in the pants to do stuff (kindly, please).
It’s interesting you say this. What I seem to notice in myself and others is this tendency to want to skip boring, fundamental disciplines and only do things if they’re impressive or aesthetic. In myself I have to discipline the slow and small because it doesn’t seem important, and that often requires kindness and compassion, which seem so counter to my idea of being made holy, but really just reveals how much I’m relying on myself to do it in the first place.
Yes. I already have (I believe) a tendency toward the vice of sloth, so even those slow and small disciplines seen hard won in many ways and still require a kick in the pants from myself and others (and hopefully more and more, from the grounded liturgical and spiritual practices of Christian tradition.)
Okay, off to process this outside of your comment section. 😂
I have been thinking about this and the fact that really, we ought to be talking about these things (Lenten stuff) much more locally than nationally. That is, people who know you will know best (especially your spouse and your spiritual friends, etc.) how to advise you about things like self-denial.
I think one of the reasons I tend toward the "be merciful to yourself" Lent advice is that I, like you say, am a perfectionist sometimes, and also that my particular local church community struggles much more with scruples and performance anxiety than with laziness and self-indulgence.
As my husband was saying last night when we were discussing something else, when life was primarily local (even over generations of the same family), there was much less of a sense that you had a right to privacy or anonymity locally. You were KNOWN. This had its drawbacks, of course; but on the other hand, you weren't being hoodwinked by the false familiarity of the internet, where you feel you are in relationship but you often really aren't. So the advice and collective memory might have at times been more helpful.
I think I write things about stuff like Lent because I know that I didn't hear this kind of voice for most of my early womanhood and motherhood, and I really needed it. So it's the next best thing to provide it to other women who have inadequate local or family "knowers"...
I started a book the other day called "Glittering Vices" which digs into the historical vices and corresponding virtues. (I was only vaguely familiar with a few.) So far it's been really interesting delving into the array of these sinful proclivities that actually.... have names. That we are each tempted or have proclivities towards, personally (and perhaps as a community). Self-denial that doesn't sting my personal vices as it does someone else's may not actually be bringing me closer to virtue! This is not a novel concept, but it will be helpful for me to go deeper into the names and descriptions throughout this book. To look deeper at what needs to be purged and refined, as opposed to a general "I'm a sinner" hand wave. haha
And wow, your point does apply to so much of internet advice. Not that it's bad, it's just not always particular or applicable to a KNOWN you.
Another thing that came to mind is that what the Catholic Church, at least, asks of people in terms of special Lenten practice these days really is pretty small. Tradition suggests prayer, fasting, and almsgiving; fasting is prescribed as a limited fast on Ash Wednesday and Good Friday, and abstaining from meat on Fridays. Exceptions to both are clear.
By keeping the bar low, it makes the minimum attainable for most. The meatless Fridays, especially -- almost everybody can go without meat on Fridays without doing themselves or anyone else harm. There are exceptions, but they are truly exceptional (I can't while pregnant -- by I know lots of women who do fine while pregnant with a meatless day).
Often scrupulosity propels people to do MORE than they ought. But if people are willing to be obedient to that traditional, light outline of Lenten practice, they're unlikely to do LESS than they ought. (That's a big IF, of course.)
I wonder if that is partly why we see so many essays arguing against scrupulosity and so few arguing against letting yourself off the hook.
I know you aren't Catholic, Haley, but what do you think?
I think from the Protestant angle, it's much more confusing, because it's encouraged, but there's simply not the element of, the Church saying, "Do this". I see the tendency towards being lax, OR conversely the tendency towards creating artificial hoops to jump through as pretty widespread throughout the Protestant church. For example, this is not related to Lent at all, but if you move away from the historical teaching on life and contraception, then you see the divergence to just not caring at all on the one side -- of course birth control is fine! -- and then taking it to the far extreme of purity culture, Quiverfull, etc... on the other hand. But had there been a reasonable, but still difficult truth presented (or rather kept) in the first place, I think there'd be far less excuse for extremes. I think people will always invent their own hoops to jump through, and which direction they go is often determined by personality. But the lack of clear direction is a problem. It's like the anxious child who will try to do things that aren't their responsibility, or the laissez faire one who will happily never do anything without some outward force compelling them. And they both need guidance. I do think we've thrown a lot of that baby out with the bath water...
Contraception is a great example. The sad thing is that NFP -- which in Catholicism is the "reasonable, but still difficult" solution, perhaps -- is not well-accepted by the laity. Few Catholics practice it; even fewer are Catholic-Quiverfull types, but those who are are often extremely opposed to NFP as essentially selfish and totally wrongheaded. So if you are an orthodox Catholic and you're trying to use moral ways to influence fertility according to church teaching, you're actually likely to be attacked from both sides -- by the culture, which thinks you're nuts, and the radical providentialists, who will tell you you're taking the easy way out by using NFP (HA!).
So in some ways, I think that being a minority -- which also applies to the practice of Lent, since most Christian (Catholics included) ignore it or choose not to practice it -- makes it hard to hold to a reasonable line. With contraception, until quite a ways into the 20th century, almost everyone thought it was wrong -- *including* those who used it. Same with sex before marriage. That cultural agreement can be really helpful. (Of course, culture can also be wrong, as we see today in so many ways.)
So I agree with you that in many ways, we did throw the baby out with the bathwater -- we threw away all of the wisdom of our history along with the injustices, and now we live in an unmoored, alienated, vulnerable eternal present.
I feel these paragraphs deeply—for me and my wife—as I choose to read instead of packing snacks or my lunch and the kids are teeming up stairs. Grief and the ache of grief and the ache of cosmic questions in the midst of tantrums and packing snacks and etc etc etc… I felt seen.
Have you heard of Sally Thomas? She is an encouragement to me because she’s a truly great Christian writer (favorites are her poem collection “Motherland” and her novel “Works of Mercy”), but she is an empty-nester and just now publishing great things. The encouragement to me was that she was not able to write like she wanted to in the early years of motherhood (and many of the later years as well, since she homeschooled). She made the right choice, and her writing has not suffered for it, and her children and family were blessed for it too. On the other hand, I have a friend who is a mother of little ones, homeschooling them, and is doing great writing right now. Everyone has a different level of ability and capacity for the discipline of creating, writing, whatever it is. Whatever the season, we can in small ways daily answer the call to create.
Right now I need to work on the discipline it takes to write rather large icons for my church before our 3rd child is born this summer. Lord, establish the work of our hands!
I just looked her up! I hold on to these stories of women who continue to be faithful to what’s in front of them, trusting that the time will come. The Sally Clarkson’s of the world give me a lot of hope and encouragement.
I can't write because I spent half the day commenting on Rod Dreher's blog. Sometimes I just need the community over there. After all, communicating with other adults? No mother needs that, right?
I can't write because my second-oldest - a boy, who, at 12 1/2 suddenly is almost as tall as I am - has decided to take out a lot of anger and frustration on me in the last couple of days, and when he's not, there's still a house to clean, food to cook, and laundry to do, and two little sisters who need to be held and snuggled to process all the uncertainty and feelings around them.
In the end, I will write, though. I will write because it's what I do, what I think I'm supposed to be doing, and... I don't know, maybe a bit of a light to shine through all the darkness, because as much as things get bad and overwhelming, those of us who know Christ understand that our hope is through him, and so we keep going, as bearers of that hope.
The comment sections are one of the things I appreciate most about Substack! And I'm sorry about the anger and frustration -- we have not reached that stage, but I have to remind myself with my little people that I get the best and the worst of them. I will say a prayer for you, I'm sure I will BE you in a few years. I am preparing to do a lot more praying with four boys who will at some point all be teenagers at once.
Well golly if this isn’t my life. I can’t write because my kids view my computer as an invitation to crawl into my lap and demand attention. I can’t write because I set aside time in the evenings to write, but the toddler needs me to lay with him and as soon as he is asleep the infant wants to eat (again). I can’t write because the moment I sit down the exhaustion of the day reaches my eyes and words stop making sense. I can’t write because I keep thinking it’s supposed to be easier — if I was actually a good writer, the words would just come, formed perfectly with ease. Maybe it’s not the toddlers or the infants or the laundry or the endless dishes, maybe—despite the thoughts constantly swirling around in my head—I just can’t write.
And maybe that is a defeatist lie that will seem so silly once I can sleep for more than two hours at a time. When does that happen, again?
The not sleeping is so hard! I don’t usually realize how much a bad stretch of sleep affects me until we’re edging out of it. But, sometimes, as some wise people have told me, you’re living the words and the writing will come.
But—YOU DID IT! You wrote! And kept the kids and yourself and husband alive. Go you!
Almost of every paragraph resonated with me, in one way or another. Thank you for articulating the struggle.
What’s keeping me from writing now: insecurity. I think I’m not capable of doing what I want to do, no one wants or needs to listen (maybe even myself?)—and there’s certainly something more productive or tangibly valuable I should be doing. Oh, the “should”s.
All those shoulds can be so loud! I do find that sometimes just writing about nothing gets me somewhere. Or writing for myself without the idea of doing anything with it. It often seems like you need at least twice as many words that never see the light of the day in order to find the ones you really want.
I love all of the reasons you can’t write and totally relate! Thank you for the humor and the creativity with which you composed your words. I thoroughly enjoyed reading, smiling my way through.
"Maybe the world already has too many words" goes through my head ALL the time. Also worrying about if it's a legitimate use of my time. Also being scared for people to really know me or have fresh opportunities to misunderstand me. But one thing I like about writing is that sometimes you really do have that magical experience where you haven't sat down to write but you've been working and working and working it over in your head and then when you finally sit down, some knot you couldn't untangle before has loosened.
So many of these are where I am right now (down to the tantrum flop and sore back/strong arms). Thanks for writing this and reminding me that I’m not the only one, and that we’re all trying. And trying is good. And your bits about the kiddos cracked me up. One of my favorite funny/mortifying kid moments was when my son screamed into the silence “WANT MONEY!” when the lector asked us to pray for our personal intentions during the prayer for the faithful (he’d seen the ushers getting the collection baskets ready and wanted to put money in them). Gotta love the circus!
So funny! We’ve also had a few who loudly ask, “is church over??”
Definitely have gotten that! On the flip side, my youngest has started doing some liturgical dance during the musical portions and really has latched onto “true God, true God” in the creed. And my oldest has gotten very good at saying the right responses in prayer about a beat after everyone else does and causing the priest and congregation to chuckle more than once.
I love it when they start to follow along. The almost three year old is a stinker fifty percent of the time but has also started echoing prayers. I always come back to the fact that they have to be there to learn how to be there.
Exactly! And God is so good-on some of the toughest mass days when I’m just so frustrated at this season of mass being active and other focused rather than contemplative and personally prayerful, those are the days when we’ve had parishioners come up and thank us for bringing our kids to mass. I couldn’t handle jt nearly as well if it wasn’t for how absurdly welcoming and understanding the people at our church have been.
… in a whisper scream. 😅
The tantrum flop! My 10mo just started this, and I absolutely don’t remember my now-2yo doing it. It’s hilarious when I’m regulated and so so frustrating when I’m not.
Two of our boys were "collapsers." They didn't yell or whine . . . they simply collapsed to the ground whenever we asked them to do something they didn't want to do :)
It’s my second who’s doing it too and wasn’t something my oldest really did. And I agree, it’s funny when I’m in a good place (she reminds me of a Disney Princess throwing herself on a bed to cry) and drives me crazy when I just want to get something done and she’s delaying the process
For what it's worth, I always look forward to your writing — even though there's a lot of people writing out there. :) And I'm so sorry about your friend. Those "early deaths" are so jarring and disorienting.
I was thinking out loud to my husband the other day about how a lot of the Lent musings I have come across are people who admittedly have more perfectionist, overachiever, and/or tendencies toward scrupulosity... trying to rightly correct some wrong approaches. But where's the writers who deal with the vice of sloth, who are fine being perfectly adequate in life??? lol I cannot relate to the educational or spiritual overachievers in the same way. haha For me, I *do* often need people to kick me in the pants to do stuff (kindly, please).
Thank you, Haley. It’s really sad.
It’s interesting you say this. What I seem to notice in myself and others is this tendency to want to skip boring, fundamental disciplines and only do things if they’re impressive or aesthetic. In myself I have to discipline the slow and small because it doesn’t seem important, and that often requires kindness and compassion, which seem so counter to my idea of being made holy, but really just reveals how much I’m relying on myself to do it in the first place.
Yes. I already have (I believe) a tendency toward the vice of sloth, so even those slow and small disciplines seen hard won in many ways and still require a kick in the pants from myself and others (and hopefully more and more, from the grounded liturgical and spiritual practices of Christian tradition.)
Okay, off to process this outside of your comment section. 😂
I have been thinking about this and the fact that really, we ought to be talking about these things (Lenten stuff) much more locally than nationally. That is, people who know you will know best (especially your spouse and your spiritual friends, etc.) how to advise you about things like self-denial.
I think one of the reasons I tend toward the "be merciful to yourself" Lent advice is that I, like you say, am a perfectionist sometimes, and also that my particular local church community struggles much more with scruples and performance anxiety than with laziness and self-indulgence.
As my husband was saying last night when we were discussing something else, when life was primarily local (even over generations of the same family), there was much less of a sense that you had a right to privacy or anonymity locally. You were KNOWN. This had its drawbacks, of course; but on the other hand, you weren't being hoodwinked by the false familiarity of the internet, where you feel you are in relationship but you often really aren't. So the advice and collective memory might have at times been more helpful.
I think I write things about stuff like Lent because I know that I didn't hear this kind of voice for most of my early womanhood and motherhood, and I really needed it. So it's the next best thing to provide it to other women who have inadequate local or family "knowers"...
A very good point, Dixie!
I started a book the other day called "Glittering Vices" which digs into the historical vices and corresponding virtues. (I was only vaguely familiar with a few.) So far it's been really interesting delving into the array of these sinful proclivities that actually.... have names. That we are each tempted or have proclivities towards, personally (and perhaps as a community). Self-denial that doesn't sting my personal vices as it does someone else's may not actually be bringing me closer to virtue! This is not a novel concept, but it will be helpful for me to go deeper into the names and descriptions throughout this book. To look deeper at what needs to be purged and refined, as opposed to a general "I'm a sinner" hand wave. haha
And wow, your point does apply to so much of internet advice. Not that it's bad, it's just not always particular or applicable to a KNOWN you.
That sounds like a fascinating thing to study.
Another thing that came to mind is that what the Catholic Church, at least, asks of people in terms of special Lenten practice these days really is pretty small. Tradition suggests prayer, fasting, and almsgiving; fasting is prescribed as a limited fast on Ash Wednesday and Good Friday, and abstaining from meat on Fridays. Exceptions to both are clear.
By keeping the bar low, it makes the minimum attainable for most. The meatless Fridays, especially -- almost everybody can go without meat on Fridays without doing themselves or anyone else harm. There are exceptions, but they are truly exceptional (I can't while pregnant -- by I know lots of women who do fine while pregnant with a meatless day).
Often scrupulosity propels people to do MORE than they ought. But if people are willing to be obedient to that traditional, light outline of Lenten practice, they're unlikely to do LESS than they ought. (That's a big IF, of course.)
I wonder if that is partly why we see so many essays arguing against scrupulosity and so few arguing against letting yourself off the hook.
I know you aren't Catholic, Haley, but what do you think?
I think from the Protestant angle, it's much more confusing, because it's encouraged, but there's simply not the element of, the Church saying, "Do this". I see the tendency towards being lax, OR conversely the tendency towards creating artificial hoops to jump through as pretty widespread throughout the Protestant church. For example, this is not related to Lent at all, but if you move away from the historical teaching on life and contraception, then you see the divergence to just not caring at all on the one side -- of course birth control is fine! -- and then taking it to the far extreme of purity culture, Quiverfull, etc... on the other hand. But had there been a reasonable, but still difficult truth presented (or rather kept) in the first place, I think there'd be far less excuse for extremes. I think people will always invent their own hoops to jump through, and which direction they go is often determined by personality. But the lack of clear direction is a problem. It's like the anxious child who will try to do things that aren't their responsibility, or the laissez faire one who will happily never do anything without some outward force compelling them. And they both need guidance. I do think we've thrown a lot of that baby out with the bath water...
This is very interesting.
Contraception is a great example. The sad thing is that NFP -- which in Catholicism is the "reasonable, but still difficult" solution, perhaps -- is not well-accepted by the laity. Few Catholics practice it; even fewer are Catholic-Quiverfull types, but those who are are often extremely opposed to NFP as essentially selfish and totally wrongheaded. So if you are an orthodox Catholic and you're trying to use moral ways to influence fertility according to church teaching, you're actually likely to be attacked from both sides -- by the culture, which thinks you're nuts, and the radical providentialists, who will tell you you're taking the easy way out by using NFP (HA!).
So in some ways, I think that being a minority -- which also applies to the practice of Lent, since most Christian (Catholics included) ignore it or choose not to practice it -- makes it hard to hold to a reasonable line. With contraception, until quite a ways into the 20th century, almost everyone thought it was wrong -- *including* those who used it. Same with sex before marriage. That cultural agreement can be really helpful. (Of course, culture can also be wrong, as we see today in so many ways.)
So I agree with you that in many ways, we did throw the baby out with the bathwater -- we threw away all of the wisdom of our history along with the injustices, and now we live in an unmoored, alienated, vulnerable eternal present.
Annelise!!!! How do you say things I’ve been thinking about for so long, but so poignantly. 🤌🏼 ha
Ahh yes that makes sense. What your tradition’s baseline expectations and norms of participation are make a difference.
I feel these paragraphs deeply—for me and my wife—as I choose to read instead of packing snacks or my lunch and the kids are teeming up stairs. Grief and the ache of grief and the ache of cosmic questions in the midst of tantrums and packing snacks and etc etc etc… I felt seen.
It’s a lot. Crumbs and existential angst and hungry people.
This was lovely and relatable.
Have you heard of Sally Thomas? She is an encouragement to me because she’s a truly great Christian writer (favorites are her poem collection “Motherland” and her novel “Works of Mercy”), but she is an empty-nester and just now publishing great things. The encouragement to me was that she was not able to write like she wanted to in the early years of motherhood (and many of the later years as well, since she homeschooled). She made the right choice, and her writing has not suffered for it, and her children and family were blessed for it too. On the other hand, I have a friend who is a mother of little ones, homeschooling them, and is doing great writing right now. Everyone has a different level of ability and capacity for the discipline of creating, writing, whatever it is. Whatever the season, we can in small ways daily answer the call to create.
Right now I need to work on the discipline it takes to write rather large icons for my church before our 3rd child is born this summer. Lord, establish the work of our hands!
I just looked her up! I hold on to these stories of women who continue to be faithful to what’s in front of them, trusting that the time will come. The Sally Clarkson’s of the world give me a lot of hope and encouragement.
Oh she’s so good too!
This was just wonderful. (Also, you are one of the best writers among my regular reads. You have the talent and the skill!)
I am so sorry about your friend.
Aw, thanks so much, Dixie. That means a lot.
I can't write because I spent half the day commenting on Rod Dreher's blog. Sometimes I just need the community over there. After all, communicating with other adults? No mother needs that, right?
I can't write because my second-oldest - a boy, who, at 12 1/2 suddenly is almost as tall as I am - has decided to take out a lot of anger and frustration on me in the last couple of days, and when he's not, there's still a house to clean, food to cook, and laundry to do, and two little sisters who need to be held and snuggled to process all the uncertainty and feelings around them.
In the end, I will write, though. I will write because it's what I do, what I think I'm supposed to be doing, and... I don't know, maybe a bit of a light to shine through all the darkness, because as much as things get bad and overwhelming, those of us who know Christ understand that our hope is through him, and so we keep going, as bearers of that hope.
The comment sections are one of the things I appreciate most about Substack! And I'm sorry about the anger and frustration -- we have not reached that stage, but I have to remind myself with my little people that I get the best and the worst of them. I will say a prayer for you, I'm sure I will BE you in a few years. I am preparing to do a lot more praying with four boys who will at some point all be teenagers at once.
Oh, the 12-year-olds. Lord, have mercy on them and us.
And I feel you on RD’s blog and the comment community. I appreciate it almost as much as his posts (like a very close second).
Hang in there!
I can't write because Pasquale the Anxiety Octopus says I can't 🐙 (Quiet, Pasquale!!!)
"I know there is music in heaven..." prayers for you, prayers for your friend ❤️. I'm glad you found time to "can't write" about some of it.
Pasquale, Pasquale… 🦉🦉🦉
Playing Mendelssohn is a wonderful way to process grief. And also a perfectly good reason to not write. ;)
Also, chances are you'll write better after a nap, besides just being a better human.
Music and naps both have restorative qualities :)
Well golly if this isn’t my life. I can’t write because my kids view my computer as an invitation to crawl into my lap and demand attention. I can’t write because I set aside time in the evenings to write, but the toddler needs me to lay with him and as soon as he is asleep the infant wants to eat (again). I can’t write because the moment I sit down the exhaustion of the day reaches my eyes and words stop making sense. I can’t write because I keep thinking it’s supposed to be easier — if I was actually a good writer, the words would just come, formed perfectly with ease. Maybe it’s not the toddlers or the infants or the laundry or the endless dishes, maybe—despite the thoughts constantly swirling around in my head—I just can’t write.
And maybe that is a defeatist lie that will seem so silly once I can sleep for more than two hours at a time. When does that happen, again?
The not sleeping is so hard! I don’t usually realize how much a bad stretch of sleep affects me until we’re edging out of it. But, sometimes, as some wise people have told me, you’re living the words and the writing will come.
But—YOU DID IT! You wrote! And kept the kids and yourself and husband alive. Go you!
Almost of every paragraph resonated with me, in one way or another. Thank you for articulating the struggle.
What’s keeping me from writing now: insecurity. I think I’m not capable of doing what I want to do, no one wants or needs to listen (maybe even myself?)—and there’s certainly something more productive or tangibly valuable I should be doing. Oh, the “should”s.
All those shoulds can be so loud! I do find that sometimes just writing about nothing gets me somewhere. Or writing for myself without the idea of doing anything with it. It often seems like you need at least twice as many words that never see the light of the day in order to find the ones you really want.
Yes—at least twice as many!
Thanks for this writing today — it makes me feel more “seen” in the trenches of everyday life and parenting today!
You’re welcome! I’m surprised by how much people have related to it.
I love all of the reasons you can’t write and totally relate! Thank you for the humor and the creativity with which you composed your words. I thoroughly enjoyed reading, smiling my way through.
Thanks so much, Kellie.
"Maybe the world already has too many words" goes through my head ALL the time. Also worrying about if it's a legitimate use of my time. Also being scared for people to really know me or have fresh opportunities to misunderstand me. But one thing I like about writing is that sometimes you really do have that magical experience where you haven't sat down to write but you've been working and working and working it over in your head and then when you finally sit down, some knot you couldn't untangle before has loosened.
Yes. There are so so many things in my life that I can only work out by writing. Often it’s not public writing, but I need to see words on the page.
Needed this today 👏👏👏
❤️
Saw those sentences a flyin with them geese; they'll be back!
Ha! Let’s hope so! I’ve been wondering where they got to 😆
Oh the pages that could be written with infinite hot water and a waterproof laptop.