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I find that as life takes on a faster pace, I have an almost desperate need to slow things down. As someone who used to be a "doer"(raising four daughters will do that to you), I have learned to become a more constant observer and it seems to serve me well. I like catching moments as they happen. I enjoy recording things by camera or using words to express and evoke emotion. I feel that in some ways, I am finally beginning to come into my own. You see, when I was young, as early as eleven years old, writing was something that felt very natural to me. I found that it was a very therapeutic way for me to calm myself as I dealt with some very tumultuous situations in life. Writing allowed me to place things into perspective. It allowed me to compartmentilize my world into things that were good and things that were not so good. It allowed me to connect with a part of myself that understood a little more, a part that was wiser and more maternal. It helped me to withstand a difficult childhood.

Looking back now, I see that for a time, this gift, my coping mechanism, was taken away from me. Professors in college became overly critical of my use of "descriptive language". My father decided that I should become an attorney and that creative writing was a huge waste of my time. I lost something that was important to me. I lost something that meant expression. I lost my absolute love for the written word.

But somehow, my love for writing never really disappeared. It just lay doramnt, right beneath the surface of my life, waiting. Waiting for the right time. Waiting for me to return. And like this loyal dog who waited patiently for his master to return to the edge of the water, my words waited for me. Slowly I find them buried just beneath the surface, and slowly they return to me like an old friend whose been with me all along.

I began to read more and then more and then more. I participated in a wonderful writing workshop taught by an inspiring and gifted writer named Peggy Payne. Peggy encouraged me with her love of the written word, her adventurous spirit and her giving nature. She made me realize that to some people, words are like air and without them, we fail to thrive.

And as I became more of an observer, the words and images flowed back to me. I no longer waited for them to return without understanding that I was, indeed, waiting. I opened my soul back up to the power of the written word. I began this blog...

and the words poured out.

So I wonder when I think about the people I know, the friends I have, the Angel daughters I am raising. What have you left behind? And how will you open yourself up into coming home to it once again.

May you close your eyes and search your soul for the things you left behind. May you believe that you are worthy enough to bring those things back into your life.

I have been dealing with a computer crash since this past weekend so please bear with me if I am a bit out of touch. I am sharing this computer with my Angel daughters who for some reason, think that it's important to do homework.