I ventured into the world of words and photographs in 2009. After long and meaningful talks with a friend, she suggested I begin writing a blog. When I did, it quickly sparked a creative vein in me to write.
As the spark grew into a flame, I began to look at the passions and desires in my life. I should have clued in back in 1993 when I was in college the first time. I was accepted into the nursing program – and ultimately failed – at Fanshawe College in London. My heart just wasn’t in it. I later entered into the Child and Youth Worker Program, did well, married while still in school, went on the spend the next 16 years in the field of social services.
When I picked it all apart, at the heart of it what I enjoyed most is meeting new people, and hearing their stories. Everyone has a story. Back when I was in nursing, one of the complaints I received was that I was spending too much time reading through the patients’ files. I suppose that’s where it all began.
I want to know people’s stories. All it takes is stopping long enough to talk with someone for the first time. My daughter calls me a hypocrite because I talk to strangers when she shouldn’t. I don’t think I have ever told her not to talk to them, I believe most people are good people. Strangers are friends we just haven’t met yet.
I have met interesting people everywhere I go. It’s only when I stop to listen, or strike up a chat that I find out just how interesting someone is. I have met 21 year old Mario who was in Haiti on his first missions trip when the earthquake hit. I met a lady in her 50’s working in retail that lived in the biker life, abandoned by her husband when she went to the hospital to manage her mental health problems. She ended up living under a bridge for four years. These are just two of the people I wouldn’t have had the chance to meet if I didn’t start talking.
Everyone has a story. If you want to share yours, email me! I’d love to hear it!