Too often we miss these ideas because we’re not paying attention; we’re too busy, too distracted. And even on those quiet occasions when we do notice an idea that wants to work with us, that’s usually when the self-doubt starts to kick in: Who am I to think I could do such a thing? To make such a marvel? 

Compassion doesn’t deny that there is room to grow, but it clears space for new life while our critical voice wipes out any chance of it. 

I want to ask myself the hard question: will I even appreciate whatever is just around the corner if I don’t open my hands to gently receive the goodness that is already here?

A bittersweet goodbye.

I never planned on writing about death and grief when I started writing young adult novels.

I think learning to let go is one of the hardest parts of creating.

Today, I’m taking a leap of faith.