One of few things I know for sure—
Whatever you’re going through these days,
you are not the first, last, or only person to face it.
You’re not even the only person facing it right now. Good or bad, happy or sad, you’re not alone with it.
Right now there’s some other someone staring into a different distance with a different past and a different fate, but in this moment you two are One.
Who knows…that some other someone may even be me.
That’s why and what I write. So you and I can see and feel that we’re not alone in this moment. In this happiness. In this fear. In this dread. In this delight.
I write because of magic words. Not mine. It’s the words my readers send me, assuring me I’m still on track, that are magic.
Not thank you, though they do say that.
Not omg, you’re in my head again!, though they say that, too.
Not even my favorite: I really needed to read this today.
Nope. Their magic words, the words that brought me home to writing, which set the course for my work and the whole rest of my life, are:
Because you have your story and I have mine and they may meet but will never match. And yet we both, we all, want the same things—
To be healthy, happy, and whole. To earn wealth and to share it. To thrive in defiance of troubled times. To have a good time. To share a good laugh. To love and be loved.
We are, as a beloved author says about prairie towns, “freshwater pearls…all different, and all the same.”
And so I write these letters. To celebrate and mourn, cry, laugh, forgive my failings, and cheer the big and little wins.
Writing letters cleans things up and squares things off. They set things right. Emptying my head (ideally) tops off your heart. These letters are my everyday story with eternal truths stirred in…the kinds of things you’ll recognize, appreciate, and understand.
Actually, that’s my big hope for everything I write… that you’ll read it and see something of yourself. And that my ideas and insights, observations and experiments, my flailing fuck-if-I-know moments, will give you a good laugh and something to ponder on, but most of all the easy comfort of things familiar.
That’s what I’m here for.
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