I met with a dear, old friend today.
We talked, laughed, reminisced, caught up.
And as oft what happens
With this dear friend of mine
She knew there was more I wanted, needed to say.
I've no idea how she knows
The more of what I'm not saying.
I'm sure it has to do with listening, not just hearing.
She's a master at that most difficult art -
One that involves listening to another's heart.
I told her of things I've dared not speak to others -
Of fears and anger, futility and failure.
Of doubts about choices, decisions
Words not spoken and perhaps, wrong paths chosen.
And could she please, please tell me what to do.
She never asked why I'd made the choices I had.
I didn't think I knew the answers myself.
But this dear friend gazed at me with love and understanding -
Not judging, simply looking into my heart.
Then calmly she told me, "You just have to start."
She told me I knew what mistakes I'd made.
Told me I already knew where I'd gone astray.
She stared at me for many long moments,
Reached out and held my hand.
Then she said, "We all already know what we need to do.
It's simply a matter of having the courage to confront, then follow through."
"Every story always has a beginning. A middle. And an end.
The key is to recognize where you are in your story.
Then you decide how much more writing you have left to do.
Editing and revisions are always available to you.
You just have to start.
And follow through."