I have begun again so many times. Especially here, dear Reader. This time, I shall not make the attempt to tell you of all that’s happened, of every little thing since the last time I spoke.

In my bookshelf are at least five journals, the earliest from seventh grade. All of them are filled with words for about twenty pages, half of which are one entry, trying to sum up the years since last writing.

You see the pattern.

Perhaps, I’ve often wondered, I should simply relax into my seeming inability to commit to the daily or regular production. I am definitely a sprinter, most comfortable with alternating periods of intense work and intense rest, the way a child runs and walks and flops on the ground while at play.

What is Life, after all, but Play?

Thanks to therapy over the last few years, I’ve honed in on another reason: the fear of being seen. And as I’ve processed, healed, and shed the layers of that fear, the certainty that to BE ME, to manifest fully as an event in time, to understand whatever purpose is mine, I must open my mouth and speak. And to speak, I must be seen.

I was trained by my church’s theology and culture to disdain myself from the very beginning, to mistrust my “carnal nature,” and to feel guilt at every impulse that came from desire. So I downplayed the joy that always came when letting words fly from my mouth in front of (and with) others. It has taken so very long to unlearn and unweave that fear and guilt, but it is done, done as much as ever before in my life.

So I will be saying, “Hello!” every Sunday at 10 am in a livestream simulcast on Facebook and YouTube. I hope you’ll join me in this, I can’t wait to see what happens, and I hope it inspires you to be who you really are.

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