Endings are hard. Just ask the writers of Saturday Night Live. Sometimes they end a sketch well, but those are usually in the first half hour. Because endings are hard. That's why there are two too many seasons of The Office, the "see everything turned out alright" ending of Broadcast News, and the coda at the end of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. Bob Newhart got it right, but he is one of the few. Because endings are hard. The finality of letting go is so unknown.
I often do not know my ending when I begin. I learned from improv that if I pay attention, trust my instincts and build on what is in front of me, the ending will present itself. I look at writing as a process of discovery; a continuing suspenseful delicious unveiling of the truth. Every blog post I have written over the last five years has been a product of this search for this often ridiculous and surprising truth. I promised to always tell you the truth, and it has been the easiest and most rewarding act of my life thus far. Easy because of the courage I find in words, and rewarding because the discovery behind the meaning each post's unique collection of words grants helps me breathe deeper, walk steadier and see clearer than I did before.
And now the ending is presenting itself.
There is no drama. There is no single reason. There is no big news. I am not done parenting, not by a long shot. And I am still making plenty of mistakes and figuring it out as I go along. It simply seems that life, circumstance and plain old instinct is leading me to figure it out in different ways.
I thank you for reading, for sharing, for commenting. My ongoing hopes are that we do not feel alone in our doubts, that we embrace our beautiful flaws and recognize their strength, and we continue to laugh at ourselves because we need to wear our imperfections like badges of honor. Let your loved ones see you fail and not give up, so that they feel comfortable doing the same. Because without failure, we lose innovation.
This Blog began five years ago with a list; a letter to my kids about what I really wanted for Mother's Day. So, since Mother's Day is right around the corner...
What I really want to give myself for Mother's Day
I often do not know my ending when I begin. I learned from improv that if I pay attention, trust my instincts and build on what is in front of me, the ending will present itself. I look at writing as a process of discovery; a continuing suspenseful delicious unveiling of the truth. Every blog post I have written over the last five years has been a product of this search for this often ridiculous and surprising truth. I promised to always tell you the truth, and it has been the easiest and most rewarding act of my life thus far. Easy because of the courage I find in words, and rewarding because the discovery behind the meaning each post's unique collection of words grants helps me breathe deeper, walk steadier and see clearer than I did before.
And now the ending is presenting itself.
There is no drama. There is no single reason. There is no big news. I am not done parenting, not by a long shot. And I am still making plenty of mistakes and figuring it out as I go along. It simply seems that life, circumstance and plain old instinct is leading me to figure it out in different ways.
I thank you for reading, for sharing, for commenting. My ongoing hopes are that we do not feel alone in our doubts, that we embrace our beautiful flaws and recognize their strength, and we continue to laugh at ourselves because we need to wear our imperfections like badges of honor. Let your loved ones see you fail and not give up, so that they feel comfortable doing the same. Because without failure, we lose innovation.
This Blog began five years ago with a list; a letter to my kids about what I really wanted for Mother's Day. So, since Mother's Day is right around the corner...
What I really want to give myself for Mother's Day
- I want to forgive myself.
- I want to remember I have not made my last mistake.
- I want to keep laughing at myself.
- I want to take the non-mom part of me out for a drink and see what she's all about.
- And I wouldn't mind an unnecessary pair of shoes.
Thank you all.
