In three days, I'll be at the Blissdom conference for the second time. But instead of planning and packing for this year's experience, I can't stop thinking about the last one.
{Blissdom 2011}
I remember being in the audience for opening remarks. I had a notebook and pen. I was there to learn how to use social media to promote a company I worked for; I had no expectations for my own writing.
After listening to the welcome, I stood up and walked past the mini-sessions for brands and businesses and sat down with a group of writers.
It just felt right.
And, oh, it was. It really, really was. There I met a feisty writer with kind eyes and a beautiful smile. She led the discussion and she changed my life. She relit a fire I had left to extinguish. And as we went around the table and I heard names like Schmutzie and Palinode, I started to fill my notebook.
For the rest of the weekend, I wrote down blog names and twitter handles and fought the urge to run to a corner and start reading. All of it. All of them. I was captivated by the affection they had for their stories, by their commitment to truthtelling.
I hadn't felt that way about writing for a long time. I had let myself believe I wouldn't feel it again.
I came home and read and read and read. And then I wrote and wrote and wrote.
This space was born because of Blissdom. And part of me is afraid to go back; to return with my own blog, and stories, and truths.
So I remind myself that even with the embarrassing, fumbling posts of my early blogging days, I have grown. And instead of editing or deleting those posts, I will have affection for them.
{My magical notebook}
I will go to this conference again and grow some more.
I will balance coffee cups on tiny saucers and see some of the faces I've connected with over words.
My words. Their words. Our words.
*************
I'm not the only one who's been growing around here.
I am thrilled to share my first Today's Parent blog post about a bittersweet milestone.
