I recently read an article that said many writers think of themselves as wounded. I hadn't considered it before. But I thought of all the words I've written to lighten the weight in my heart; the boxes of poems, letters, journals, and essays, some never read by anyone but me, and felt myself relate.
Last week, because the stars aligned and good friends keep great company, JB and I had dinner with phenomenal songwriter and performer, Peter Katz, before all of us were to see Glen Hansard in concert.
Simply put, Peter's music moves me. His lyrics are compelling. And listening to him speak about his songwriting process with such humility, respect, and dedication was incredibly inspiring.
At the end of Glen's concert, Peter was invited on stage for the encore. Before performing this song, he shared its story. When he sang, you could feel heaviness become light. You could see people finding themselves in his words.
As we listened, I felt myself fill with a thousand wishes.
I want my children to know there is beauty in sharing your joy and healing in sharing your sadness.
I want them to take everything they feel and dance across stages, play music, fill books with words, colour canvases, capture moments in frames, even if only for their own eyes.
Even if only for their own hearts.
Last year I took our then nine-year-old daughter to see her first modern dance performance and I watched her tiny dancer's face fill with emotion. I saw the surprise written there when she felt tears fill her eyes. She reached for my hand knowing I felt it, too.
Inside each of us are stories. There is so much value in sharing them.
For every artist who has that courage, thank you.
