I didn’t care for reading as a child – I preferred Bonanza and Beverly Hillbillies reruns, Saturday morning cartoons and the Ed Sullivan show. Then one day, I opened a book titled The Hobbit.
Tolkien … literally changed my life.
I love to write. It’s a luxury I never expected I’d have time for – life got in the way. You know how that goes – kids, work, chores… sleep. I worked for 18 years in business where amassing coin was the all-consuming objective. It required huge amounts of time and mental energy. And for me personally, it was soul-slaying.
Then on September 11, 2001 two planes flew into the World Trade Center. I was working in Connecticut, about 2 hours from ground zero, and remember sitting in a conference room, watching the second tower fall. That tragedy initiated a process of redefinition for me, an evaluation of what was vital and important. Life felt short and precarious, and I started to wonder if it was time to do something that actually mattered.
In a moment of loving kindness, my husband suggested that I quit my job and go back to school (he still wonders what he could possibly have been thinking). I graduated with a Masters in Counseling and a mountain of debt. Oh well. I worked in Burlington, Vermont for peanuts – but, oh, they were chocolate covered! The human experience was sweet and rich. I had the pleasure of working with people who cared deeply about the challenges facing children and families, and I came to understand how the power of relationship, in all its myriad forms, can change the world. In Myths of the Mirror it is called the Belonging.
Then life got in the way again, and Randy and I made a move to Oregon. In another regrettable moment of loving kindness, he suggested that I write a book rather than work, and Myths of the Mirror poured onto the keyboard.
We live in the lush, wet, green wilderness a half hour beyond the edge of civilization in a wonderful community where, once again, I encounter the Belonging. Myths of the Mirror has evolved, changed, grown, shrunk, tightened, and finally come to rest. It has been a labor of love and I hope you enjoy it.