It’s Thursday on my Birthday Week and I’m still listing the things I thankful for and the things that make getting older, worth it.
I’m not all that sentimental or hocus pocus-y when it comes to writing. I have my weird things I do, but no charms, tokens, or rituals. I simply enjoy writing. That’s it. And for that I’m thankful.
From roaming the western deserts with my dad, to working at a gold mine in Alaska, there are a few things that I’ve seen that I want to share. God gave me the eye to see the stories around me, to think of them in terms to explain to others. I have enough brain to be able to string words together into coherent thoughts and sentences.
I struggled with English in school, yet somehow it made sense to me when I learned French.
I resisted reading when I was young yet found authors like Twain, Hemingway, and London that captured my imagination.
I feared writing yet found a voice in learning to speak in Toastmasters and other public speaking occasions.
I hope I have many more birthdays between now and when I think I’m done writing. Which will only stop when I stop breathing.