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Dear Loves

All we can do during trying times is TRY.

Anyone who’s followed my past letterwriting projects knows that who YOU are, as intended recipient, is pretty much a mystery. I may be writing letters to the past, missives to the future, or messages sent directly to the present via the roundabout of an infinity highway. Somehow, it doesn’t really matter because they always reach their intended audience. Because in addition to whoever else needs these loving words, you are also always already me.

I want to commit to writing to you in the midst of a global pandemic because this feels like a path that is life-giving.

I am a teller of truth, by way of grappling with my own damn self.
I write because these times are bringing up all my demons.
I write because these times are also showing me all the tools.
I write because these times are an invitation into becoming who we could be.

I am a documentarian, trying to capture both the precision and the poetry of my own story.
I write because, as Maria Popova says, this is a “record of my becoming.”
I write because these are my experiences, and as Anne Lamott says, “If you don’t know where to start, remember that every single thing that happened to you is yours, and you get to tell it.”
I write because Audre Lorde counsels us, “The weave of [our] every day existence is the training ground for how [we] handle crisis.”

I write because I matter, and I write because you matter.
I write because it is you who will inherit the outcomes of how we show up, right now.
I write because it is you who will deal with the implications of where we focus our energies, right now.
I write because it is you who will feel the ripple effects of who we choose to become, right now.

These memories are recipes for the future.
These antidotes are insights into what ails us.
These surprises are what we get when we don’t think we’re ready yet.


Published inlove poems

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