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Dear Karen,

In my classes we sometimes do an exercise in which we open with “I do not want to write about…” and go from there. The list of what I do not want to write about is long today. I do not want to write about how fragile I feel. I do not want to write about how I disappointed someone I love. I do not want to write about how it feels as though all I can do right now is take care of myself, and barely that, and no one else. I do not want to write about the vulnerability I felt a few days ago when my creative process was criticized. I do not want to write about the filthy mess my studio is in right now. I do not want to write about my credit card bills. I do not want to write about what’s for dinner (I don’t know and don’t care).

I do want to write about play, and how today I miss it more than anything. I want to write about the walk I took this morning, and tell you that a few opening lines came to me, and I rushed home to write them down. I want to write about my sweet husband who gives me the space for this creative work. I want to write about all the mistakes I’ve made in my life, and how they have somehow added up to a whole lot of people who know me and still love me. Above all I want to write about the retreat I have planned for January, and how I went to the stationary store last week and bought a 2014 calendar and blocked out those days just for me. I want to write about how this has lifted my spirits more than anything else could have, just to know that this span of time to myself is in my future. I do want to write about how, since making this decision I have felt my creative angel unfurling a little and shaking her wings.

Ah, she seems to be saying, so we are not all about business and reviews and who said what to whom.

No, we are not, I answer, and here is the proof.

I show her the calendar, the dates.

We’ll do it, I tell her. I won’t let anyone take this away from us.

Then I fear that it will be taken away. By money needs, or obligations, or family.

But this morning the beginnings of a story came to me. And on Saturday I found a book that supports the work I am about to enter into. And this morning I found two crow feathers, which I took as a sign that I am to do this work, I won’t say why. I can feel the serendipitous energy of the universe coming in to support me, guiding me, and taking my hand.

And yet, I feel so fragile, so vulnerable, so afraid, of what, I don’t know. But I don’t want to write about that.

I do want to write about my love for you.

Nancy