Night seven of a week of solo parenting with stomach flu, sans Saturday night babysitter. I am a tired mama, and want to write more but can manage only this: I realized tonight that I believe utterly in the power of stories to transform. This is not a metaphor. I feel I have been searching my whole life and that all I have been comes together in this. It is the harnessing of the mind, the will, the heart, the body to a vision that is complete and has consequence in the world. It is the bridge between the hope and the real, which we might also call “magic.”
I believe...
