About four months ago I finally, finally figured out what I want to be when I grow up.
Sitting on our brown couch beside my hubby, we were halfway through The End of the Tour when I turned to him and said, eyes wide, “That’s what I want to do.”
His brow furrowed, confused. “What’s what you want to do?”
“I want to tell stories.” I answered.
“If I could do any job in the entire world, if I could devote my life to any pursuit, that is what I would spend my time doing.”
Today that answer hasn’t changed. I am more sure than ever.
Stories have the power to change a life. They have power to save a life. Stories carry information and inspiration, encouragement and wisdom. Stories make us more aware of each other. They make us more aware of ourselves. Stories are teachers, they are coaches, they are counselors and a friend. They evoke emotion and compassion and motivation. Stories have helped save marriages. They have helped teach parents how to parent. They have played a part in getting people from physically and emotionally unhealthy to healthy. Stories tell us about other parts of the world from the comfort and convenience of our own home. They take us to periods in history that we never got to visit ourselves. They open our eyes and broaden our horizons and make the little bubbles we live in a little bit bigger. Stories make magic out of the ordinary.
I want to be part of that magic. I want to live a story worth telling. I want to find stories worth telling.
Today I am bursting with them. I cannot type fast enough to record them all or think fast enough to get them written down before another one comes charging through the door. I find myself caught in a whirlwind I am doing my best to lasso and wrestle into something worth sharing. Something worth reading.
If anything I have written has resonated with you, connected with you or encouraged you in some way, if it has peaked your interest or found you at all inspired, you can follow along by following this blog.
These past few months of telling my stories has been changing me from the inside out. Knowing you are reading would be icing on the cake. 🙂