Jan 14


Photo 150My daughter Ella Jane, is a pack-rat. Ever since she was little, she gathered trinkets, broken things, sticks, fuzz, and disgusting though it is…even hair she’d cut from her dolls. 

Up in her bunk bed, which is her own little once upon a time world, she stores these things like a little squirrel. And though it is so not cute during the few times a year a get the “I must clean everything or I will go insane” urge…most of the time, I love it.

And when I think about her, storing things up and away just for herself, I wonder if she will be a writer or a storyteller when she gets older.

Cause that’s what writers do…collect incidents, and conversations, observations, names, and occupations. We find ways to use a funny story or a sad one, a silly name, an article on the worlds largest collection of toenails, a song, or a tune. We store them all away in ourselves and save them for that moment when they’re ready to come out and tell their story.

That is, if we are willing to listen. 

So maybe it is not so much the storing away that makes a difference, but rather the listening.

And as we find in friendships, relationships, and in all of life…listening to another person: their frustrations, their accomplishments, their hurt, their joy, their misunderstanding, their anger, their voice…can make all the difference in the world.

And so, to those who are reading this, thank you for listening to me even though I may not always make sense, or I may repeat myself, or you may disagree with me.

It’s always nice to know someone is listening.

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