Snowy Day and Socks

The other day I was given the opportunity to participate in the Creative Writing Group. It was an impromptu schedule change, thanks to the snow storm. I don’t usually attend the weekly group that meets at Rev, although the times I have I’m always overcome with joy. The group is so welcoming and inviting. This time was no different. It was a little awkward for me, I wasn’t sure who would be coming and didn’t know if I would know anyone. A bit after 10 a woman who looked quite familiar came in. I get pretty nervous initiative conversation, but I challenged myself to ask her if she was here for the writing group. She was and I said I was too. I told her that I was filling in for the day. As we chatted a bit others started to join us and we were able to hold the group. It was so refreshing to listen to the different writing styles of those around the circle. There was easy conversation and we laughed at the common experiences we had all shared. When it came time for the free writing section someone said sillily we should writing about un-matching socks. And so we did. I was so uncomfortable with participating. I don’t consider myself a writer and get very nervous sharing what I write. But I really challenged myself to channel that fear and fully participate. I’m so thankful that I did. I had a fabulous morning with this group, and would love to return soon to be in their company. If you haven’t participated, I highly encourage you to come by. Enjoy the company of some very warm and inviting people, laugh and make connections, maybe even do some writing.

Amanda

 

My socks don’t match

The liberation of it all comes over me, so often I feel boxed and contained. Do right, be good, follow the crowd. But today I of all days I chose to say no. It was a day like any other, the sun slowly rose and threw shades of rose and amber across my room. The chill of the morning air had me snuggle a bit longer in my cocoon of covers. As I rise to face the day, I feel something churn inside of me. The constant struggle of what I want and what I must be is ever present. The what ifs start to take hold. What if I didn’t, how bad would it be I went my own way. What would people say. Would it be the scandal of the century? Today I feel the power, with the warmth of sun over my shoulders I use it to make my stand. As I dress the glee takes hold. How it is something so powerful has chosen me to be the messenger. I take the message given me and head for the door. I will face the world with my liberation, because today is the day that my socks don’t match.

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