Thankful tears

I wondered if I could answer my need to share my beliefs in a way that made sense to people; that didn’t prompt head-scratching, brow-furrowing, or any number of “This Does Not Compute” responses that could be helpful.  So I wrote a book, and foisted it on some of my good friends to edit.

“Kelly, I can hear your voice as I read it!”  “Kelly, this stuff is AMAZING!”  “It feels like you’re right there with me on every page!”  “I finally understand what you’ve been saying all these years!”

Now we all wondered together: “Do you have to know Kelly to ‘get’ Already Here?”

I decided, as with most things in my life, not to care.  From deep inside, I had to know for a true fact, that even if nobody other than my mother (and these few friends) enjoyed it, I would find my reward in the writing.

I thought I did. 

I was shocked, then, to discover that thumbs-up-ness by someone I’ve never even met could touch me so much.  Aberjhani’s kind words actually made me cry.  It wasn’t the first time.  Aberjhani’s poetry repeatedly breaks me open and inspires me to jump for (tear-filled) joy.  He conjures the same kind of magic Rumi did:  assembling mere words, he sublimely morphs them into life-changing epiphanies.  I really don’t know how he does it, but the world is more beautiful because of it, so I’m thankful he does.

And, I’m thankful for his gracious review of Already Here: the matter of Love—