"My grandfather died while I was writing the novel -- but, as he might have remarked, it wasn't necessarily my fault. I regret that he never saw the book. I had finished the third draft of what turned out to be five, but I had decided to wait until the novel was perfect before I gave it to him to read. What a fool I am. If you will forgive the one piece of advice a writer is qualified to give: never be afraid of showing someone you love a working draft of yourself."
I love that last line, but I would add that we shouldn't be afraid of showing anyone a working draft of ourselves. This concept strikes me to my core. I want to accept that I am a work-in-progress (like everyone else), and that I don't need to hide that. I think that when we are willing to stop trying to appear "perfect", in any respect, we help others be brave enough to do the same. And there is such peace in accepting ourselves right now, flaws and all, as enough. As someone that is worth being seen. And aren't those the kinds of people that we're usually the most comfortable and happy around, anyway?
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I took this picture last Saturday morning at 5:15 a.m. I love, love, love how light it is in the morning now when I am running!
Yesterday's run was a long six miles pushing Tess in her stroller (pushing that thing up hills is WORK!). Afterwards, I rewarded her for her patience with time at a park near our house:
I tried to take another selfie with Tess...she quickly ran away, instead.
Tess insisted on bringing three books from home with her on our run. At the park, she organized them before racing off to play.
The half-mile walk home took F.O.R.E.V.E.R. She had to stop and inspect every bug she noticed, as well as smell all the flowers. Even the dandelions.
Showing me her toes while we waited for Maddie to finish up with Tae Kwon Do.
Thanks for reading!
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