I used to dread anything that made me write about myself or describe myself. Why? I would say or think. Now, I have a blog and all kinds of social networking sites, and that’s all it does. It gives people a glimpse into my life. In ways that I really never imagined.
When I was in 7th grade, I had to write a Biopoem. It was so strange as I was handed the template again on Tuesday. I was told to draft one to share with the students in the summer program I would be working in. I would love to be able to find the one I did 15 years ago and compare them. I’ll have to check with my mom to see if it’s lying around her garage, but for now this is what I did, filling in the blanks to the prompts with little thought to get my first reaction.
I am a writer, photographer, teaching and a dreamer.
I like moments of intensity, moments of life, and moments of freedom.
I feel intricately designed.
I see a lot more clearly than I used to.
I want to dig my toes into the desert sand….forever.
I know that understanding may never come so acceptance is the best gift I’ve ever given myself.
I pretend that it’s all just out of my grasp.
I expect that I will always land on my feet, that laughter will be plentiful, and that joy will always be present.
I believe deeply in the sanctity of my soul and the holy presence of God.
I worry about people who worry about me.
I wonder about the presence and place of peace in this world.
I plan to spend the 30th year of my life gainfully unemployed.
I understand that life is simply a journey that can be shaped into an amazing adventure.
I dream vividly about the things I need to work on, people and places that have slipped away, and about music.
I try my best to deal with my unconventionality.
I hope that my decisions never cause anyone pain.
I will always (and have always) be able to look myself in the mirror and know that I have been exactly who I needed to be that day.