One fog shrouded morning, perhaps a lifetime ago, I glimpsed a young boy venturing into the realm of existence. He gathered his voice and shared his story, dancing ecstatically into life through my fingertips as I watched in amazement.

Seeing, Hearing, Speaking

I now know that the boy’s name is Aedan. He carries the Celtic legacy of one “born of fire.” He captivated my muse with his plight and introduced me to his weary collection of unsuspecting guardians. We have shared so many hours together that they feel like the oldest of friends. Their humble courage and devotion, their burdens and their gifts are chronicled in “Solace Born of Winter,” (the introductory novel in what threatens to become the “Sentinels of Solace” series).

Aedan’s fire ignited the long quiescent writer within me. Decades of unvoiced verse, prose and song are tumbling from my pen. The words carry their own momentum, yearning to be born. My writings engender bits and pieces of the ragged patchwork of my own history, enhanced by a lifetime of engaging and acknowledging others’ experiences in lieu of turning away. These are the whispers of the earliest hours of the morning, or the sunlit revelries of captured time when I can immerse myself in their journey. The seeds of these creations lie in the more “mundane” moments of life. The moments which define my place in the spiraling trajectory of human experience are the same ones which nourish my muse. They are compiled like treasures while supporting learning and joyfulness in my children or celebrating my love for my life-mate. They are wrapped in the satisfaction of encouraging wellness in my patients, embracing my community and honoring the natural world.

My curriculum vitae as a writer reads as follows:

• Despite a decade in academics, my muse is unconquered.
• I have served as a healer for over twenty years I have had the honor of nurturing my patients through life’s transitions and challenges
• My life is rich and my gratitude great.
• I have loved and been loved.
• I have hated and been hated.
• I have misunderstood, and been misunderstood.
• I have walked the path of sorrow and I share an empathy with life’s challenges
• I have seen, I have heard and I have remembered.
• I have woven the poignant beauty, the celebration, the capriciousness and the heartbreak of human experience into the tapestry of my stories.
• I have written and shared my work with others (true to the pragmatic advice of author/editor Kate M.Collins, I pushed send!