One of many times I've spent in a favorite coffee shop, collecting my thoughts and distilling down my thoughts into an understanding of what I am to do with my day, and my week. I must admit, I've probably downed more calories than is necessary, what with a chicken salad sandwich, a large Americano and a rice bar. But other than that overindulgence, this sitting and internal journaling is like feathering a nest and putting things in order.
Last night I attended another Open Mic night, and actually read one of my stories: Hannah's Garden, along with some poems from a Creative Writing class. The positive reception was really encouraging, and I started to believe once more that I do have something to offer that no one else has. Yes, there are other songbirds, other writers, other poets, and many are better than I. But there is no other me, no one who can do exactly what I do, no one else who has experienced exactly what I have, or made sense of it in the way I have.
That was a wonderful feeling to have, and knowing it helped me bond with the others who put themselves out there, up on the proverbial stage, to know and be known, at least in part. No competition, just a sense of being a part of something bigger than any one, or all of us combined. No therapy session or self-help guru could ever do that for me.
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