A Writer’s Prayer Let me forgive myself for the stories that are not perfect, for the scenes rushed
A Writer’s Prayer Let me forgive myself for the stories that are not perfect, for the scenes rushed through and the plot points fumbled, and the language less than it ought to be, and the phrases that make me wince even though no one notices but me. Let me forgive myself for the stories I didn’t write, didn’t finish, or didn’t let anyone see - because I was too busy, too lazy, too tired, too frightened, because I was living my life, or saving my life, because I was falling in love, or falling out of love, because I had run out of words, or room, or time, let me forgive myself for all those stories that live inside me and not on the page. Let me forgive myself for my failures, but also for all those times when I tallied my shortcomings instead of celebrating each small success. Let me celebrate now: not the life that I dreamed of, but the life that I have, not the stories that I dreamed of, but the stories that I’ve made, not the writer I imagined I’d one day be, but the writer that I am. And then let me keep working. - Terri WindlingPhotograph: Morning coffee break in the winter sun, with notebook, pen, and faithful hound. Nattadon Hill, Devon, UK. -- source link
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