Anne Bradstreet, How did you do it?

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You can’t tell but I’m making dinner right now.  The pasta sauce is simmering  and the fettucini boiling.  Phone rings.  Noodles were slipping into the hot water as I nod my head.  The callers questions are answered relay style.   Before I finished these sentences, I am interrupted and given instructions on how to do a trash run.  Trash runs are an extremely important covert operation.  I am sworn to secrecy. Enough said.

Less than 1 minute has passed.  In walks my daughter who is watching a show on Hulu.

“This is the best show ever!” she says as she hugs me.

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I am the person behind the words printed here. I write because my heart will not allow me the option of NOT writing. It has taken me half a life time to discover this basic truth, but now that I have, writing is as natural as breathing. This is where my breath takes the form of words.


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The Miracle Morning: The Not-So-Obvious Secret Guaranteed to Transform Your Life (Before 8AM)
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