My daughter was hugged by Justin Bieber tonight.
This is because I have a friend, who was once my roommate in high school and then a bridesmaid in my wedding and then a confidant and trusted source throughout everything that came after, who decided my little kid was worthy of her magic.
And then she put her wand to it and poof! My kid is now the happiest kid on the planet.
My daughter was not lucky tonight. Instead, she was the recipient of what happens when you nurture what you love. Or in this case, who you love.
There is so much talk in the giant, noisy world about the social network. Blogs and tweets and Facebook and geolocation and oh holy hell, it worries me. In just writing these words, I feel my heart beating the wrong way.
Instead my heart should beat like my daughter's did tonight and how mine does in grateful thanks for my friend -- with a passion.
How does your heart beat?
My heart does not flutter over twitter follows or Facebook "friends" or blog commenters.
My heart beats when I write. My heart beats when I feel magnetically moved to, when I can not do anything but... write. My heart beats when writing becomes the best puzzle and the best solve all at once. My heart beats when writing reflects the best part of me, or the ugliest part, or the nastiest part, or the sweetest.
Writing is my Bieber.
It's my meet and greet.
I am trying to nurture what I love.
6commentsBrilliant Person Wrote...
I'm going to spend the new year trying to decide what makes my heart beat the way it should. Until then, I, as always, continue to await the gentle embrace of one Mr. Simon Le Bon.
It's good to know what makes your heat beat in that oh so special way. I've never known.
You need to go write so much that you give yourself a heart attack.
Wow, it looks different in here... did you move the sofa?
I always love me some Picket Fence. P.S. I've been listening to Jenny Owens Young a lot lately. I'm in a "Fuck Was I" phase...
Merry, merry lady.
Your writing has amazing hair. I love it.
It's kinda wonderful that this happened for your daughter because of your love of a friend.
I write to work things out. I write a lot about my memories of the past. I would really like to write wonderful commentaries on the present. I love your writing!
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