An Open Letter Of Thanks, To Those Who Read My Words. 💕

If a tree falls, and there is no one to hear it...
IT DID NOT MAKE A NOISE.

The unwitnessed tree-fall, is a silent one.

The unhugged baby, is a neglected one.

The unread writer, is an unfulfilled one.

Tossed things, want catching.

I am absolutely convinced we never outgrow
the desire to be seen and heard.

The normalization of selfies is evidence of this.

Boomers, Millennials, GenXYZ, Tweeners...
all ages, in some way, say:

"See me. Hear me."

We flash cash, cleavage, and clout,
hoping to not be left out...

I'm not sure when, exactly, I decided
to use my social media platform
as a means of public healing, cleansing, confessing,
and other forms of over-sharing on a regular basis...
but clearly, at some point, I DID.

It's the kind of box you never want to return to,
once you've written your way out of
being embarrassed about who/what you are.

I'm interested in inner news,
so that's what I report on.

And you being here, hearing my trees fall,
has meant more to me than I can adequately say.

I'm grateful for whatever you have witnessed,
because your glance caught my signal,
and gave it somewhere to land.

That is a gift.

YOU are a gift.

Thank you.

I am so encouraged by all you bright lights,
twinkling against a dark night sky.

With Love,
Erika 💋