How it Comes to Be

It arrived with a birthday. One of those bigger, questionably more important birthdays. I had turned seventy, and the best gifts of the day were meaningful conversations with my daughters and four grandchildren.

The “it” that arrived didn’t come in an Amazon box or an envelope with humorous card, wasn’t wrapped in colorful paper or splashy bag. It wasn’t tangible at all. It was the pressing desire to say more, and if I’m being honest, it had been pressing on me for a few years. I just made the decision as I was blowing out the candles to honor it. 

I had come to the realization that I needed to offer my written words to the already existing mass of writing out there–another vine in the deep entanglement of rain forest mesh. 

A Stephen King quote described my state of mind fairly well, “Good writing is often about letting go of fear and affectation.” I let go of both of those with the exhale that blew out my candles. I did not want to be nagged by remorse or a feeling of regret. 

I tempered my impatience to dive right in. I took stock and assessed my challenges. The obvious complication presented itself–what subject matter to advance. With Do-It-Yourself inspiration, ideas bubbled up with verbs like repair, heal, fix, advise, and admonish. I wanted to patch the cracks, help somehow, offer some common sense during a time when that sentiment seemed noticeably lacking. 

With keyboard tools at hand, and in an attempt to organize a ponderous volume of topics, I designed a deceptively simple menu.  

My resources were typical, the aforementioned seventy years of experience, a well-stocked library of finely aged books, a decent education and years of travels. All those were mixed with a healthy curiosity, observation, and enough compassion to inspire me to sit and compose it. This is it. Consider the “it” that arrived on my seventieth as the genesis of this site–the need to say something more before the opportunity slips below the horizon.