Dear Diary,
As 2012 staggers to a close, I find myself reflective and reflexive. This year has been a roller coaster for me. I have often found myself gasping for breath and checking to see that I did indeed have my seat belt securely fastened. I have experienced some very deep lows, not too many highs, a truckload of adventure, and lasting revelations. And I’m still here, equipped with more stamina and elasticity than I started off with. Although I have stumbled through with less organization and have had wayward pieces slip through the cracks, I have kept the majority of my turmoil to myself and have been mostly able to function successfully for my kids and responsibilities. I do regret that my real life has hampered me being able to keep up with my love of writing this year. The saying that ‘truth is stranger than fiction’ applies here. If I were to write a story about my recent events it would not gel coherently into a believable tale. But pieces of it are certainly fodder for future writing projects. That’s what writing is all about; imagination intermingled with the life experiences of the author. So, ultimately, it’s all good. The experiences are needed to give dimension and truth to the craft. It gives the ability to pierce into the reader’s psyche, because although separated by our different personalities and realities, we all share a similar emotional makeup. We are all in this together.
Moving forward and onward, my newest mantra is “Just Dance”. By dancing I mean enthusiastically pursuing the things that stir your heart and make you shine as a person. This needs to be done regardless of the circumstances. After dealing with the large and small issues that life throws at you, you must get back on the dance floor wherever you are or make your own if you have to. The alternative is sitting on the sidelines as a gloomy wallflower. That is wasting time. H. Jackson Brown Jr. quotes: “Opportunity dances with those already on the dance floor.”
On top of my To-Do List for next year is to tighten up my blue suede shoes and dance scintillatingly. And then write about it. I’ll see you out there.
Dear Diary .... by Kellianne Sweeney 
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