Oh, self-reflection. Oh, mirror of my mind. I’ve noticed a few things about myself. I’ve developed a fixed mindset. I am a statue carved in stone and my chisel is out of reach. I’ve heard about this elusive state called the growth mindset. I know about it in the same way I know about mythology. Magical deities have power as along as we believe in their existence

Writing can be a reflective practice. A way to heal trauma. Or an invitation to explore the imagination. It can be a vice and a vocation. Sometimes, I write noise that should have been music.

I came late in life to the works of Mary Oliver. There are some books, some authors that I have always intended to read but never quite have. It’s like we had been standing at opposite ends of the same library and all I needed to do was walk over and pick up her book.