how will you feed the river?

A few months ago, I thought to myself that I could write about two to three posts a week. Maybe even more during weeks where I felt particularly prolific.  

Now here I am, writing less here than I've ever written before and it's okay with me.  I think I've finally let go of that expectation to be someone here. 

I know this may surprise you. 

Maybe it doesn't? 

In any case, I've let go presumptions about my place here in the blogosphere and allowed myself to simply be—it's a great place to rest.

I imagine my posts will continue to morph into something completely different than where I was a year ago. I imagine I'll continue to write about writing [because I can't help the meta] and there will be many, many posts about how my creativity intersects with my faith. 

But I'm okay with who I am here. Finally. I'm okay with the once-or maybe-twice a week posts and on good weeks maybe-four. I'm okay with the guest posts on Saturdays from the women in Story Sessions who are working out what it means to be a mom and creative. I'm okay with finally stepping back and letting others take the place I so wanted to fight for and cling to less than six months ago.  

Because here's the thing: I'm not that person.  At my core the INFP-ness oozes discomfort at the soapboxes and the yelling and the twitter fights and the drama that happens on the internet. And if you are that person who loves to get in the middle, who loves to shout loud that it's just not fair and people need to listen and why aren't you engaging in that hashtag?! then be you.  

I'm learning this: we all feed the River. And so I need the fighters. I need the peacemakers. I need the poets. I need the feminists. I need the artists. I need the cynics. I need the hopefuls. I need the Millenials and the Baby-Boomers and the Gen-Xers and every one in between.  

You all make my words better. You make my characters rounder. You firm up my belief and quiet the roar of worry sunk low in my chest.

.::. 

At the beginning of August, I went live with registration for the fall session of Story101. I didn't know what to expect. The summer session blew me out of the water with the response and so would I need to aim for higher numbers? Expect a rush of people to sign? Would I even need to limit the amount of people to join? 

I've had a few sign up. As soon as I went live with the link there were those who signed up immediately.  

But in the past week and a half, as I've upped the game with my "marketing" and trying to convince people to just sign up, I've realized two things ::  

- I'm absolutely exhausted
 - A grand total of zero have registered for the course

I remembered this morning, as I shoved my head in my hands and wondered what I was doing wrong, that for the summer session, the magic happened when I just let it go. I sat on our couch and told my husband, "I don't know how to get these seats filled..." And he looked at me and smiled.

"Don't worry about it. People will sign up. I know it." 

The next morning I had fifteen new people. By that evening I added twenty total—twelve more than I expected.

.::. 

My life is not meant for cold calls and rejection slips. Some of you will need to go this route. I understand.  

I'll need your steady hand in moments where my feet just can't find the ground. 

But I choose to go the route of mysticism and things happening that just don't make sense.  This breathes life to me. This speaks movement.

Hope. Promise. 

Allowing the space for divine connections and the season for magic and that mystery-induced laughter of how in the world did I get here?  — this catches my breath.

It's how I feed the River. Mystic and hopeful, creative with a dash of monastic. How will you?