To My Baltimore Writing Group

“I cannot give you the formula for success, but I can give you the formula for failure, which is: Try hard to please everybody.”
-Herbert Bayard Swope, journalist

Before I started the writing class, I was alone in the workshop room. I said, “Thank you,” to my ancestors and my spiritual leaders because I felt so blessed for the opportunity to share what is so close to my heart. After the class, I said, “Thank you,” again because the group felt especially open and present.

I wanted to write this to keep track of the process for me as a teacher and invite others to share if they would like as another blogger on this site.

Driving home, I felt a bit lost in a world of Richard’s birthday wish of flight and Gerry’s coffee brewing just waiting to be noticed again. I too had a strong longing to fly and that was how my obsession with vampires began when I was 8 years old. Then I remembered the coffee that I used to set to a timer to wake me up the first summer I lived on my on, sharing a studio in Boston with my best friend. We had a pet mouse named “Homer” that was really a city rat that stole our food. Both memories remind me of dreaming of escape into the skies or to the roof of the building where a thin breeze blew.

The beings we choose to take care of us and the beings that choose us to parent them… I thought of the Lou, Melinda’s dog, whose coat helps to strip away her stress with each pet and caress. The two free souls that entered Annette’s life and reminded her of the lineage of independent parenting that her mother passed on to her. The latitudinal parenting Susannah grew up with that allowed her to pass many latitudes of the world traveling for work and pleasure. It reminds me of a saying that we borrow our children to teach them to become individuals who are able to navigate the world on their own. I try to model this for my son. But since having relocated here to Baltimore, I have been trying to pull myself out of a shell and a stagnancy of familiarity. I see him trying to make friends and reach out while looking at me – his snail mom.

This shell has been breaking lately and the class pulled me further from the protective layer that hasn’t served me. I felt bolder after the class when I witnessed the openness and bravery of everyone there to share and be genuine. Tonight, I saw this tree that was covered with sections of colorful knitting. I imagined the care and love that went into knitting onto the tree or knitting for the tree, I am not sure how it got there. But it felt like our group, just beginning, but already warmed and brightened by our unique contribution to the whole, to our class.

Thank you again for signing up, for showing up in every way. I feel so lucky to be a part of this group.

Lemon water,
Soo Young Lee