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breeannaksmith

An Attempt to Describe the Magic of Class

One person showed up knowing almost nothing about the class, not really knowing why she was drawn to it. Hell, she was my barista, and we had small but beautiful exchanges here and there. Now, here she is saying yes to a class from an almost stranger tagging her in an Instagram story.


One person joined, a "habitual" returner who is sick of habitually writing about her painstaking, drawn-out divorce. 


Sitting next to her is a newcomer, whose own divorce haunts her to this day. Yet the habitual writer is sharing crystal clear truth as she chokes back tears while bravely pushing through her words. One hand outreached for hers. When class began, they sat next to each other as strangers. Within minutes, a sisterhood unfolded.


One person joked that he comes for the connection of people, and writing is the currency he has to pay for it. 


Another new comer shares that she is finally finding herself again, and writing is one of the few puzzle pieces left in remembering her true self. 


All come for different reasons 

All inspiring by a different jump off line 

All say yes to what is within their soul and out onto the page 

All uniquely different shares

All resonated collectively

All connected through the terrifying yet 

Liberating practice of 

Giving ourselves permissions to 

Let our shoulders drop, 

Belly hang, 

Our truest selves unveiled 

Our truest selves held 

In unconditional support 

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