Telling a True Story

Telling a True Story

Easter morning, planted on the couch with my husband and our faithful hound dog, Zander. There are three teenage girls sleeping upstairs. They could be there until noon. Gone are the days of colorful eggs hidden in our yard and Easter Baskets loaded with chocolate bunnies and fluffy yellow marsh mellow chicks. I might have done it, I could have done it – they would have loved it – but I just didn’t have it in me. What a great phrase, “Have it in me.” And what is in me this morning? * The bumbly, possibly pot hole filled road ahead of me this week as my new eCourse, Telling True Stories, launches. The momentary horror when I realized that I had mis-scheduled the Lesson link, and it had gone live this morning instead of tomorrow morning. The way I sat here on the couch, coffee in hand, shaking my head at the perfection of that – how afraid I am to make a mistake with all this new technology – WordPress, Mailchimp, Photoshop –  and how perfect that even though I WASN’T READY, things moved along without me. * The notes I took with my smarty pants coach, Rachel Cole last week about how I was ready to embrace the wabi sabi of it all, amble into my first eCourse in a beat up yellow pick-up truck instead of a flashy sports car, flags waving. How the energy of the offering –  the gift to write true stories – was what mattered, not whether my hair was going to be right and people would love me. *How it’s...