My last post spoke directly to the many boxes that I carry for baggage. They make up everything that I am. I do find it hard to manage them all, depending on the situation.
But I own them. They are mine.
Authenticity is not something I struggle with.
Every little detail in my life relates to another. I hear myself saying often these days that I respect people who walk the walk. That's because I appreciate those people more than anyone. Those who do not just talk about believing something, but who also do something to show it.
We believe in our city, so we moved there. It didn't feel right after seven years so we moved out but we still believe in it and so we spend at least one day or evening there on the weekends and I work there 45 hours a week. It's where our girls attend preschool. It's where I buy gifts and produce.
We believe in anti-racism so we attend ant-racism events such as unity marches and picnics -- and many other things as well.
We believe in gay rights and religious diversity and standing up for ALL people so we attend a church that welcomes everyone no matter who they are or what they believe or who they love.
We believe in building a creative class, so we inspire our kids to get involved in art as much as possible. We also believe in protecting the earth by buying less of everything, wasting less and buying locally.
How does any of this relate to being creative or writing? These values all add up to equal my authenticity. And while it comes by us easily, I realize it's a lot harder for others. When all of these boxes -- my personal building blocks -- are in alignment and at the forefront of my existence, they help me write with authority and honesty. They give me fodder, yes, but they also give me peace of mind and, best of all, a little hope.
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