I was not a writer

I was not a writer.  

I grew up around people who read.  I did not.  As far as I know there were no writers in my family or among my close friends.

I feel compelled now to change all that.  
I now read.  I listen to Audible books.  And I write.  
It assists me to pay attention to my own life experience.  
I found a subject to write about: my life, when I started to pay attention; my gender; the worlds reaction to my gender; and my experience of this all.  
I found my world, my voice and my experience.  
Today I seek and find the words that come to my assistance as I tell my unique and authentic story of the world in which I find myself living.   
I am floating on a river  of the pivotal conversation I enjoyed yesterday, while I was staying at the Fairmont Vancouver Airport Hotel, a heart connection with a lifetime mentor, Anita.  
I am reminded of the days I found my story.  And then I grab to the raft and  redraw the  meanderings of how those early days lead me to the place I find myself now.
Along the way I find peace and excitement in equal composition.  The days to come will invite the writer in me to scribe the past and dreams of my future.  
Come along with me, this is a fun ride!  Woman on the move.  Heading to familiar and exotic, and unknown territories of geography, philosophy and wallowing in personal bliss.
I can hardly wait to turn the page!

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