At 2 a.m. on a winter night, I stand in my dim kitchen and turn on the electric hot water kettle. At once, I’m hypnotized by the blue light emanating from the pot. The bubbles form, slowly beginning to rise, then dance along the edges. They tremble until the button pops, leaving behind something that has been transformed.
The heat has done its job.
I pour the water into my mug, drop in the tea bag and a slice of lemon. At the kitchen table, I shut my eyes as the steam rises around my cheeks. Why can’t I sleep? What’s bothering me?
My mind leaps to this website.
Two days ago, I sat at the computer and saw my name flash across the screen in dark plum, and then my face. The grown-up me. Not the five-year-old with band aids on my knees, pink plastic shoes, and silly sunglasses. Not the fifteen-year-old me, in a gold lamé dress, high heels, sun-in streaked hair and freckles. Nor the twenty-five-year-old, hopeful but meek, eyes partially shielded behind long curls.
Today, the me that stares back at me looks happy, in a real way, posing for a picture taken by her twenty-two-year-old daughter. (How did that happen?)
To put my face here is one thing. To put my words — my writing, my thoughts — well, that’s quite another. That’s the soul.
I’m not sure I want to do this. I want to stay in my office, writing words and holding them close to my heart. Publishing, yes, but not making a site. Not being so bold.
But there is the wiser part of me which says it’s time to grow up. The heat is on; and the years are passing. I don’t want to miss the opportunity for sharing.
This year, 2024/5784, is the time for transformation; to be the self I am supposed to be.
I want to be.
So here I am amidst doubts but doing it anyway.
Igniting the soul in the middle of the night.
If we don’t share ourselves, we are alone. And as a writer, and a reader, I spend a lot of time alone.
Yet there is space to enter, to connect, and it beckons, just as the steam rises from my mug.
As a creative writing teacher, I am also here to encourage. I want you to write, just as much as I want to write. To give yourself permission and to know that others want to hear.
Welcome.
