Loosen, fingers, loosen your death grip on this very day. Open to the atmosphere of open, drink in large draughts of clear.

After all these years I'm still amazed when those minuscule seeds grow into plants hundreds of times bigger than their infant selves.

All that I hoped to say in books, all that I ever hoped to say, is that I love the world. E. B. White

"He was the most charming man I’ve known, and he got that side of himself into his writing."

This is a bit odd, I thought...Of course, you can pick my experience to pieces logically if you want to. I'm choosing to take it as a gift.

In the artist's journey these inner fears often *are* the Threshold Guardians: I'm not a good enough. This is stupid. Nobody will like it.

There are lots of things to be afraid of as a writer--being exposed, ignored, ridiculed. But there’s also elation, even wonder, as I write.