Used Toys

“If you truly forgave me, you’d let me come home. I miss my family.”

She sighed. His text unsettled her, putting her on edge. She had no desire to revisit his demands. Life without him was peaceful and relaxing—something she hadn’t realized until their split and his deceit. She hadn’t understood just how much effort went into meeting his outrageous expectations. Friends and family even commented on how much more relaxed and composed she seemed. Her soon-to-be ex was high maintenance, to say the least.

The ping of a new text interrupted her thoughts.

“Well, are you still there?”

Annoyed, she rolled her eyes but suddenly found herself laughing. Remembering the bumper sticker her mother had shown her just a few days ago, she began typing her reply:

“Never get jealous when you see your ex with someone else because our parents taught us to give our used toys to the less fortunate.”

After hitting send, she reminded herself she could take the high road another day. Laughing, she turned off her phone, telling herself she was a work in progress—and tomorrow was a new day.

For today’s prompt, write about a work in progress.

Midnight Hour

On a clear night,
Snow sparkles beneath
A chaste moon,
Casting its glow upon the woods,
A quiet beauty unfolding.

The season of cleansing
Offers hope and restoration
To those who seek new beginnings,
Endless joy,
And the quiet promise of dreams.

Untouched beauty whispers
Of a time that holds
More good days to come,
An untainted promise
Of a heart’s deepest desire.

Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash

Just Dance

As an inspiring writer, I find great joy in discovering wisdom from published authors. My latest read, Bird by Bird by Anne Lamott, has been a truly sensational experience. I love how she intertwines her life experiences with insights about writing. Her sense of humor and creative teaching style have given me the freedom to let go of perfectionism.

Having grown up in a household that often demanded 110 percent, it’s been challenging to write without the looming pressure of getting everything “just right”—a mindset that often kills inspiration. Thanks to Lamott’s guidance, I’ve learned to simply type to the end, no matter how imperfect the words may be. Later, I return to my work, carefully revising and perfecting those phrases that once frustrated me. This shift in my approach has been transformative.

Years ago, a college professor recommended Bird by Bird, but I’m only now getting around to reading it. It’s been lighthearted, encouraging, and deeply impactful. One of Lamott’s quotes resonates with me: “Don’t look at your feet to see if you are doing it right. Just dance.”

I’m finally learning to dance without looking at my feet—a liberating and joyful experience.