I was a creative kid, and I always thought I was going to be special.
My family taught me to believe that I was brilliant and I could change the world.
I had my first son when I was twenty-two. I was a very young twenty-two, but I was a good mother.
I just didn't know yet that the most important thing in the world was not going to end up being whether or not my kids played with wooden Waldorf toys but whether or not they could learn to make lives worthy of their putting their socks and shoes on everyday; lives that make them catch their breath and forge onward, even when it hurts, because the pain is not as big as the feeling of inspiration that they have learned how to summon.
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| Photo by Samara Graham, 2010 |
I had Mikalh when I was twenty-nine, after my divorce and before Mike and I got married. I wasn't expecting to have any more kids, and I had just traveled right into the fiery heart of Mordor and, in a convulsion of mingled despair and blind faith, tossed in everything that had gone before.
Mikalh made room in my heart for the faith to believe that I could do it all over again because, despite anything else, he was going to be the most loved baby in the world.
His love of literature and creative pursuits has touched the part of my soul that remembers knowing I could do whatever I wanted and be whomever I chose. He has made me believe again.
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| Photo by Samara Graham, 2010 |
My family is the cornerstone of my life. I am not a career woman. I don't think that there is anything that argues with genuine feminism in saying that I choose to focus on the raising of my family, both for economic reasons and for personal ones.
But for many years, I felt so defined by their needs that I could not really answer the question, "What do you enjoy?'
Now I remember.
I love ridiculous humor.
I love the naked truth where others want to obfuscate.
I love the human capacity to transform.
I love music that shatters the peace and music that holds my aching soul in its arms and tells me it understands.
I love garden soil.
I love to write.
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