I cannot fix others. It took me a very long time to understand that, maybe longer to stop trying. I love people. I especially love my people, my tribe of important others in my life. When they would come to me, bearing their problems and dilemmas all packaged nicely in matching baggage, I would set to work. I would unpack and sort, arrange and label, find solutions and give opinions. I would fix. I have this uncanny ability to see all sides of an issue. It’s where my middle-of-the-road approach to life was birthed. From this vantage point, I am given a full 360 degrees of reasons and choices, hows and whys, the nuts and bolts of issues and solutions. And I was only too happy to share this information. Why? Because it made me feel wanted, necessary, needed. Inside of a thought life that was constantly questioning my worth and value, trying to find where, or even if, I had a place in others lives, I knew for that moment in time I was important to them. If I could only fix their pr
I am creativity ~ in thought, in word, in motion