A good walk home

I usually resent walking home alone in the dark and cold. Today was different. I felt some sort of visceral force that everything was ok and will continue to be that way. It was lightly snowing and I kept looking up at the glimmers of white flakes in the street lights. I am so unbelievably sick of the winter and the snow, but tonight it was fine. The snow was beautiful from every angle. And I was cold, really cold, especially my uncovered ears, but it was ok. It actually felt good.
Everything felt peaceful. The mundane walk that I take every day that bores me to no end, flew by because I was so lost in my thoughts. Finally good thoughts. They were about me and I was finally thinking "you are ok" instead of "you should be this."

Tonight I watched a documentary about children literature, the writers and illustrators. Not that I necessarily want to go down that field, but I felt so connected with them. Everything the different people said, I connected with in some way. I felt those things too. And knowing that I could relate to and even completely sympathize with most every one of their accounts, really made me believe that I am a storyteller or at least that I have it in me. I really felt like I too have these great things inside me. Not that I'm going to be the next big sensation in animation or illustration, just that I have good in me and it will be recognized.

I could be completely far off here, but I'm going to stop with the doubts. I feel better about myself. And it's not that I think I'm amazing and nothing can stop me, but I actually want to tell stories...the stories those children's book offer are so incredibly beautiful and it was wonderful to see what drove the artists and writers to make them. I felt so conncected with their reasons for creating. I want to create as well.