Personal Growth

This Village of Mine Is Virtually Raising Me

They’ve Actually Helped Me Grow As a Writer and a Human

It’s about damned time I realized this. The readers and writers here in this village, this virtual village where I also read and write, have, all this time, been pitching in to help me grow as a writer and a Human.

I’ve been in this village for about three years, writing and reading heavily for the last two, but it took a piece I wrote just recently, and an admission from me I was drowning that finally brought about this understanding.

Just this past Monday, I posted a piece stating I was pulling up and stopping. After two years of daily posts, I was done, finished, worn to the final nub, and I was tapping out. At the time, I believed I was screwed blue and tattooed.

What happened next was an immediate outpouring of assistance, virtual hands reaching out to lift me up once again and help me stand. All you beautiful people, people I’ve never physically met, but love as much as my own family, put aside your daily missions, and came together to help me cope.

And this outpour of comments, emails, private messages, individual posts and mentions of my work, and words of praise in your own posts first, simply blew me away and secondly, made me stop and look back over the last two years.

People of this village have been helping me to grow as a writer and a Human my entire time here.

Now, I could get all crazy and start tagging every single writer whom I’ve connected with over the years and gained much-valued guidance and support, but the rest of this piece would be fifteen minutes of name after name after name.

I’m not going to go there.

These are only a few of the many who have taken part in raising me. If you’re reading this (and I hope you are), I think you’ll know it’s you I’m talking about.

The Villagers

I remember the time I was moaning and bitching about the fact I’d written two hundred and fifty-two articles without a single distribution in any topic. Yeah, you read that correctly. Two hundred and fifty-two.

Shortly after, I received an email from one of the villages’ top confessional writers. An honestly yours lady I’d been following and loved to read. She offered to help and asked me if I’d be willing to send her one of the pieces I’d written so she could take a look and possibly provide some suggestions. I did, and she wrote back with a few suggestions which I, of course, took.

One week later, the very piece she’d offered suggestions on was distributed in topics. I was a virgin no longer.

I remember the tongue lashings (which made me literally think) I’ve received over the years from a particular tree-hugging writer feather friend of mine. I never thought ill of him when he offered his opinion on something I wrote that not only went against the grain of common sense but danced very close to being an affront.

I still don’t.

He and I are still fast friends and read and comment on each other’s work. And chances are, he’ll still blast me if I offer a contrarian view or perspective.

I love it when he does.

Then there’s a particular poet in this village who has supported me since the Henry James series began. As Henry James' stories go, he, without doubt, is one of the fiercest and most loyal fans. When he read my “swan song” piece, he immediately posted a “P.G. is great” story of his own challenging the rest of the village to read the Henry James series stories and see for themselves.

Through the years, another member of the village has supported me and reached out to me just at the very minute I was falling as if she knew, she somehow knew, I needed her help. This gorgeous red-lipped rogue has offered me praise, slapped me on the butt, and told me to get over myself and do what I did best.

Amongst the villagers, there have been moments when I came across our lawyer/librarian grandma. This scrappy woman possesses a razor-sharp wit and has always been perfectly willing to serve up a slap-down or words of encouragement when I began to doubt myself.

When I was really down and lathering up with heaping globs of self-recrimination and scorn, all it took to shed the feelings was an email from a business coach and friend. A gifted writer in his own right, he took the time through emails and comments to guide me back with blue insight to a light I thought had ceased to exist.

Another villager has been reading me and me reading him for quite some time. This is a darlin’ man who writes musically slanted prose that turns into some pretty nifty song parodies. He has never failed to offer comments of encouragement when I needed it most.

And some of his responses reveal the true sorrow he feels when he realizes one of his writing buddies is struggling. From him, I have learned a lot about how to move forward even when life is at its most challenging.

As with a village of this magnitude, it stands to reason it would be chock full of leaders in the world of academia. One such villager, I call “the professor” is that indeed. Not only does he teach, but this unf*ckwithable teacher possesses such a velvet fist satirical wit he could smash a body’s toes without messing up their shoeshine.

He’s always been quick to offer me guidance and thought-provoking comments which have guided me along this path of ours.

And I’m proud to call him a friend.

My final thoughts about this village where I dwell.

There are hundreds of other villagers who have guided me with their perspectives, challenged me to dig deep within myself, and taught me how to let the passion out. There are so many people in this virtual village of ours who have shown me how to laugh, how to love, how to feel.

And I for one am the better for it.

Some say when you’re growing up in a village, the only thing on your mind is getting out. The allure of traveling beyond the borders of town to places as of yet unseen. The titillating chance of new experiences supposedly tugs at you.

Not here.

Why would I want to leave this place? This village has done more to help me grow as a writer and a Human than most of my sixty-seven years spent on this planet.

I’ve learned diversity, real diversity of thought. I’m often exposed to frailties of the human condition, varied feelings, opinions, and beliefs. None of which I either thought about or had always believed were someone else’s problems.

Well mi casa su casa baby.

My house is yours, and your afflictions, your beliefs, your differences, and your opinions are now part of mine. We are a village of people from all walks of life and cultures who are willing to help each other grow as a writer and a Human.

Aside from thanking you from the depths of my soul, I say to each of you; please feel free to come inside and stay for a while. I’ll put some tea and coffee on, and we’ll chat the day away.

Thank You So Much For Reading

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