Friday is the day I write for 5 minutes freely.
Without worry, edits, thoughts of what people might think.
Just write about one word, given by the gypsy mama.
Today’s word is: STORY
When I was a little girl all I did was read.
I read books all the time and when I was outside playing I was either recreating the stories I had read or was making up my own. I would travel through woods in our neighborhood pretending to be a lost girl, or pretending to be whatever character I could dream of. I was running from whomever I could dream up might chase a little girl like me…monsters, dragons, princes who might lock up princesses and dreaming of the good prince who would rescue me.
As I walk through the park that I live in with my children I long for that ability to create these stories to come back. I want to find that part of me that lived in this constant state of story.
But dishes, finances, laundry, disciplining sibling squabbles…they all quench that part of me that used to just dream. What is it about growing up that makes us lose our ability to dream?
I long to be at a place where I can let go. Where I can still believe in my dreams. Where I can write a story with my life that is more than keeping up with the piles of dirty clothes.
In doing that, I have to let go of fear and worry and doubt. Let go of all those things that rob me of being who I am. And telling the real story.