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Thursday, January 31, 2013


We all have things in our lives that are difficult to begin, but once we do become just as difficult to stop. For some, it's a good book. You get so engrossed in the characters and plot that you find yourself stealing time in the carpool line or anywhere you can grab a second to read more and fill yourself with the story. For some, it's a bag of cheetos. You pop one into your mouth as you empty your child's lunchbox only to find yourself taking the box out of the cabinet because you can't get enough of the salty, cheesy yumminess that makes you lick your fingers. For others, particularly middle school girls (like my daughter), she balks about getting into the shower, but once she's in there the water heater drains. Or maybe its a reluctance to stop your busy day to run to the gym, but once you start and your heart is pumping and the endorphins dumping, you wonder why you don't do this everyday.

I love words (hence the name of the blog). I love reading them. I love writing them. I love exploring and examining their magnitude and their simplicity. How they give breath and life to us. How without them, our connection to one another would be limited to the point of isolation. Words have started and ended wars. Started and ended marriages. And friendships. They have the power to hurt and to heal. To pull together and push apart. Through them, we can honestly share ourselves or manipulate those around us. They connect us and allow us to explore and share our deepest thoughts and feelings in the hope of creating or solidifying a connection. We all need to be heard. Understood. Accepted. Loved. And words lay the roadway for that.

Superfluous conversation allows us to fill time and can create a false sense of connection. It's only when we open ourselves up and allow our words to speak truth instead of expectations that we make true connections with people. Form friendships that are both accepting and challenging. We can find comfort in the intimacy while being forced to expose ourselves honestly.

I realize that the majority of our relationships buzz along the periphery of who we really are. To protect ourselves, we only allow a few to truly understand us. Words are the impetus for this. Words allow us to expose ourselves. Open ourselves to a vulnerability that forces us to grow. In my own life, I've had few of these. And I've been fortunate enough to marry one of them. And to have friends who speak truth to me.

As my friend, Michelle, and I keep moving along the road of telling her family's story of life with her special needs son, Nick, I hope that the deep and honest intensity of our conversations in crafting her book allow us to stretch one another and find a truth within ourselves through our words that changes us. 


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