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anne davis: journal entries/blog

i just forgot.

Posted on February 6, 2011
well...tonight i pulled out my guitar and was playing on it while watching my youngest little nephew build with his star wars legos...and after i played a little, he said "aunt anne, you play really good. can you play any songs on it?" and i said, "well, sweetheart, i play my songs on it." and he said, "you mean you've written your own songs?"...

i forget that he was only 4 years old when i began lyme treatments in 2007 and quit being able to play much because it hurt my fingers and hands and arms to even pick my guitar up. he was so surprised when i gave him my cd and a t-shirt to go with it...i just forgot that he doesn't have the same earlier memories that his 2 older brothers do. and they were only 6 and 8 years old then. i just forgot.

battle weary.

Posted on November 15, 2010
[sometime later on in november, 2010]
it's like a swerve in the road, to bring me to.
a reminder that i'm bleeding out.
it's like stepping on a nail again in my barefeet.
it hurts like hell....
i can't remember when the warrior in me let my sword slip out of my hands in exhaustion. 
if i knew when or where, i'd go back to recover it...
i might retrace my steps if only i could remember where all i've been....
but i've been in a thick fog for years.

jumping off the planet of surreal.

Posted on November 1, 2010
[sometime in november, 2010.]

how did i get here?
i mean, really...this is it?
i quit asking myself why a long time ago.
this is nothing like how i thought things were going to go.



i stood on tall shoulders and saw such a different outcome than what i'm crawling in now.

i just don't know HOW to throw myself forward, on to the next page.
this can't be how my story ends.
i know there's more that was written out for me...

oh, Author and Finisher of my faith---come find me here.
what You start, You finish.


everything else is a facade.
i can't trust my eyes.


can i read Your face with my hands so my heart can trust You again?
i'm Yours.

"but for me, it is like a painter standing in front of a blank canvas and not saying, 'i want to paint something someone will buy,' but instead saying, 'i want to paint something beautiful.'
--wayne kirkpatrick

"it is never too late to be what you might have been."
--george elliot

"whatever you are, be a good one."
--abraham lincoln

"all the things that have ever deeply possessed your soul have been but hints of it--tantalizing glimpses, promises never quite fulfilled, echoes that died away just as they caught your ear. but if it should really become manifest--if there ever came an echo that did not die away but swelled into the sound itself--you would know it. beyond all possibility of doubt you would say 'here at last is the thing i was made for.'"

"do not go where the path may lead, go instead where there is no path and leave a trail."
--ralph waldo emerson

"a storyteller has the task of running behind the lines to make sure the stories live, to make sure that those [...]
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i recently stumbled across this when going through some piles...

"there is such a thing as experiencing the 'realness of the moment''s giving the heart a chance to feel--it's letting someone laugh and cry--it's freedom. and, it's embracing life and savoring the moment. i say we really don't let today inspire us until we realize it'll never come again. we can lose ourselves and all of our inadequate feelings and focus in on something incredibly bigger than ourselves. it can happen. and, when it does, we're left changed."

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