By creating something better, I live a good story. I can share my story with others, inspire them to live and share theirs too. 

We had paper maps and pay-phones, post cards and rolls of film. We couldn’t share stories as they happened, or live stream what we were seeing. Each day was its own adventure, full of wonder, surprises, and mishaps.

Whatever it is that makes us think we can raise another human being must be some kind of delusional chemical in our brains that whispers little lies to get us to believe this child rearing thing will be, if not necessarily easy, then at least worth it. But how much it’s worth I suppose is all a matter of perspective.

The strength is always within, so big it scares us away from owning it. What greatness can we achieve if we rise up, embrace the power of who we truly are?