cultivating the beautiful ordinary by sharing our tales and our tables
As I consider my final Red Tent essay, I remember the distinct feeling of writing my first piece. It came flowing out of my heart in a hospital room, and it “had to be” shared. In the midst of my processing and growth, the tent has felt like a protected space that holds my historic…
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Your story was so well-written! I smiled. It felt good to have my writing affirmed following the pain of sharing the words with my training group. The hard processing part was over, and we were relaxed, preparing to leave for lunch. I laughed and replied lightheartedly, I’m a good writer!
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