CAN YOU DRIVE THE BUS?
I was asked this recently when I worked on the mobile library. In the middle of a Storytime session (we were making musical instruments out of paper plates, dried pasta and coloured paper) one little fellow asked 'Can you drive the bus?'. Then he nodded and answered his own question. 'Yep I think you can.'
I can't drive the bus but in this boy's eyes I could. He believed in me. It was simple. Any lady that came into his life, told stories, sung songs (albeit badly) and made musical instruments all within 40 minutes, must be able to drive the bus as well.
If only we believed in our writing abilities as easily. Imagine what we could do There would be no hesitation, no thinking that so much was beyond us. We would 'delve into the darkness' as one of my TAFE teachers used to say. There would be no fear, no editor sitting on the shoulder saying 'you can't write about that. What would your mother/father/husband/wife/children/best friend say?'
It would be so liberating.
.
I can't drive the bus but in this boy's eyes I could. He believed in me. It was simple. Any lady that came into his life, told stories, sung songs (albeit badly) and made musical instruments all within 40 minutes, must be able to drive the bus as well.
If only we believed in our writing abilities as easily. Imagine what we could do There would be no hesitation, no thinking that so much was beyond us. We would 'delve into the darkness' as one of my TAFE teachers used to say. There would be no fear, no editor sitting on the shoulder saying 'you can't write about that. What would your mother/father/husband/wife/children/best friend say?'
It would be so liberating.
.
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