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My Forgotten Soul in My Writings

I read blog post after blog post today. I was in search of ones that could illustrate my points for an upcoming big piece. And were these to be the story of someone I did not know, I may have cried for how beautiful the soul of the writer was. The rawness and gentle words of someone with knowledge that was won from grief and heartbreak. But they were my words so they didn’t have such an impact on me.

Why is it so hard to truly see ourselves as others do? Perhaps an initial giddiness when we are falling in love and then back to the set point we are used to. The pain and the recovery and the soul warming story of overcoming our awful obstacles are lost on us. Been there, done that. Moved on. But I refuse to toss myself aside so easily. Today I want to say I have said so much already in so many beautiful words that I know I am not finished talking. My Forgotten Soul in My Writings on Shalavee

And it is my sincerest hope that I will again fall in love with my story as a child does with theirs and I will know how to tell it to you so that you get the most out of it I can give. Meanwhile, I will keep writing like there’s no end in sight. Because there isn’t.

And If you enjoyed what you read, subscribe, via the subscription box in the sidebar, to my thrice weekly posts via your emailbox. And visit me on Instagram to see my daily pictures, friend me or like my page on Facebook. Or come find me on Twitter orPinterest too. I am always practicing Intentional Intouchness so chat at me please. I live for conversations.

And, as always, Thanks to you for your visit.

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