…so she became a healer.

Ever since I can remember people have come to me to talk. As a willing and patient listener, I became a fovorite person in which to confide. This was particularly true in high school. Perhaps it was a function of my empathic nature. Or maybe it was because I did not feel heard, so I listened.

I did for others what I needed for myself.

And it was healing. For them. For me.

Perhaps that is at the nucleus or my draw to blogging.

Before d-days, when I had energy to expend on my dreams post empty nest, I wrote, and wrote, and wrote. Yes I produced novels and short stories. Hundreds of thousands of words. Many published. Well received.

Post d-day, I have spent many long months and years regaining my equilibrium and energy. Not unlike Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz, the power was alway right here with me. The power to emote, the power to communicate, the power to heal.

And so in doing, I heal myself.

Never stop moving forward using the power you always have had—the power to use your talents and participate in life. We all have a gift. Nothing and no-one but ourself can stop us from using it.

Too healing.