One of my earliest childhood memories is of an Easter egg hunt that my dad’s company hosted when I was about three. On a sunny Saturday morning, the employees’ young children gathered in front of a building facing a big lawn where plastic eggs had been scattered. Someone said go, and a mob of older children sprinted onto the grass, grabbing eggs and shoving them into plastic bags. I was younger than most of the kids and wasn’t entirely sure what was happening. The eggs hadn’t been hidden well; it wasn’t a hunt so much as a race. My little legs couldn’t run very fast, and it seemed like every time my searching eyes spotted a brightly colored piece of plastic, someone else got to it before I did. Within a few minutes, all of the eggs had been captured. I had one lonely egg in my clear plastic bag.
I’m a big believer in the transformative and connective power of telling your story. It’s been almost a year now since I began my practice of writing creatively on a nearly daily basis, and I have learned so much about myself in the process. While most of what I’ve written has never been shared publicly, taking the time to reflect on the events of my life and how they’ve shaped me has been truly invaluable from a personal development perspective. And while I was a little nervous about starting this blog and putting my thoughts and personal stories out there on the internet for anyone to read, I’ve been so moved and encouraged by the feedback I’ve received. I love getting an email or comment from someone who can relate to what I’ve posted, and this blog has helped to deepen the conversations I have with some of the people in my life.