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Above Tree Line

A Memoir

This is the story of one woman’s spiral downward into physical and mental breakdown and her return to wholeness by courageously, and some would say recklessly, following her intuition.

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“I want to encourage you to own and proclaim your stories. I believe in them and I believe in you. That’s why I’m here.”

I am a writer.

I have stumbled over those words for most of my life. I have whispered them to myself in the dark while keeping them from you. I have questioned them, denied them, prayed them from the time I was a little girl and could not yet write or even read the books my mother so reverently shared with me. I was in awe. To be a writer was to perform magic, to touch heaven, and I was learning (and learning well) that to be a writer was impossible for me.

That’s what I once believed.

Now I know better. Now I know that if you have an urge to write, even if you are currently unable to bring the words that swirl around in your mind to paper or the computer screen, you are still a writer.

You can declare it.

You can be it.

And you must.   For the good of you and the good of those around you.

I’ll even inch out on a limb here to proclaim that it is even good for the planet. It puts out good vibes, good energy, and there can’t be anything wrong with that? Right?

But if you aren’t called to write; are instead called to paint or sing or perform or dance or bead or garden or sew or photograph or practice any craft or art, then you must do that, too, and for the same reasons.

Women, especially, but men as well, did not learn this when we were growing up. We learned to be responsible, to care for others first, to be an asset to the community, a provider, a good citizen, a parent of well-behaved children. Somehow, we learned — or I did — that you cannot be an artist or writer and fulfill these other roles, too.

Nonsense! This is SO not true!

I want to support, nourish, challenge, guide and inspire those of you who struggle to give yourselves time, space, and energy to do your work. Your art, your stories, whatever it is you are called to craft is precious and so is the limited time that is your life. Let’s do this!

I am glad you found my creative home. It is still a work in progress — probably always will be.  Have a look around.  Subscribe to my newsletter.  Settle in.  

You are welcome here.