A few nights ago I got together with some amazing storytellers. We created and mingled and told our stories- and then literally wore our stories. It was such a wonderful evening- sitting with these ladies, finding our creative wiggle (that's how I taught Iris to hula-hoop, I kept telling her to "find her wiggle" and she did!).
It's funny, because we sat there creating together and I'm pretty sure that when each of us were creating- we were probably thinking of the story we were trying to tell. And even though we didn't get to "hear" each other's "stories" that we were "telling" with our piece, we got to admire, and compliment, and show technique's, and share materials, and laugh and get all serious-like... and those are probably the same things we would do if one of us were to stand up, like we were giving a speech- and tell our story.
But we didn't.
And yet we still benefited from each others feedback, advice, support.
It was pretty freakin' awesome.
Someday- I'll be able to tell my whole story of what's going on here.
But for now, I would like for you to know that my heart is broken,
my marriage is over,
my husband will not be my husband anymore
and that I know I'll be alright.
I know I'll be alright because when I DO tell my story- to my friends and my family and those close to me in my everyday life... when they let me talk and cry, scream, laugh, bitch and moan and drop the f-bomb a hundred million times- I know that being a storyteller means that I get to benefit from all of their love and support and meals (J, A, and E- I LOVE you) and childcare (and mama-care) (C, S, M, T, C, K, I LOVE you) as they listen to all of this.
I know that if I choose to keep this story inside, than I choose not to let people in. I know that if it weren't for me taking a deep breath and saying the words- I wouldn't feel the deep deep care of many hands and hearts lifting me up.
My people are THE people who are making my story hopeful, healing, reflective.
And that, is my story