Schooled By A Toddler!
Dear Reader,
Recently I sat in on a theatre performance by the very talented Dave Gould who took a group of toddlers on what he called a Sound Adventure. It was baby theatre. Theatre for babies.
I was captivated.
Joy, as I was reminded, is contagious. Dave Gould shared his and it infected every single person in that room, preschoolers and adults alike. As a person who suffers from depression, and I don’t use the word ‘suffer’ lightly, walking out of that room feeling light and happy was a gift. That man shares his joy. We need to feel free to do the same, not just for ourselves, but for other people, people we might not even know, who need it.
We don’t need to stop there. We can also share for our own pleasure because we, like everybody else, need to be seen. Somewhere along the way, that demand that comes so easily to toddlers, ‘look at me,’ gets lost in a sea of unworthiness and we add ‘don’t.’
Don’t look at me (I’m not worthy).
Don’t see me (you might not like what you see).
Instead of accepting rejection as a necessary part of the experience, a weeding out of sorts, we avoid it altogether.
Lay low.
Keep your head down.
Stay under the radar.
We avoid rejection at all costs instead of shining our light like a beacon calling to our people. And don’t be fooled, it costs us.
We trade our freedom for it.
Dave did not demand or expect these toddlers to sit still and watch his performance. He encouraged them to dance with his words, his music, and by his example. And they did. They danced and ran around in circles. They jumped and skipped in the convoluted way only 2 and 3-year-olds can muster. They didn’t look at each other with judgment. They didn’t criticize or cringe. One tiny, curly-haired, girl covered her ears and simply watched. Given space, by the end, she danced. We, too, can do things in our own time. And we can do it for the pure sake of enjoyment. We can even do it to be seen.
The children participated naturally, joyfully. One exuberant, pig-tailed, little one ran in the opposite direction, dodging her playmates in a momentarily breath-stealing game of toddler Frogger. Her caregiver gently turned her around and pointed her in the right direction. How nice to be redirected so sweetly. She bore no shame. She pivoted and continued on her merry way. How often to we seek permission as artists to participate? Should I post this? Will I be seen as too cocky? What if people don’t like it.
What if people don’t like it?
We’ll feel it. That rejection. That ‘not good enough.’ That urge to find a place to hide. This is when we need to channel our inner preschoolers and do the thing. Be vulnerable. Get messy.
Throughout the performance, the children continued to check in with their caregivers. Chants of ‘look at me’ rang out. Seeking attention from their caregivers, they smiled and danced and tumbled into their laps for hugs. Together, they celebrated. Together, they enjoyed the performance. Sorrow shared is halved, but joy shared is doubled, tripled, quadrupled. Connection is not a luxury, it’s a need.
Connection is why I moved to Substack. I don’t want my readers to be a number on a spreadsheet. Come here. Come close. Share with me a bit of your story.
Freedom is why I write the genre mash-up of spicy contemporary romance and emotional women’s fiction that’s not afraid to explore the darker side of grief and mental illness.
Joy is what I receive when readers message me to tell me how my words touched them and helped them heal.
Permission is something I give to myself.
Because I’m allowed to take up space.
And so are you.
My writing brings me great joy. I’m excited to share my newest book baby, No Sweeter Madness, releasing May 30th. 39-year-old Wren is taking back her life. Even if it means turning her world upside down to do so.
Blurb:
Sometimes the ties that bind cut you to the quick.
Wren
One rash, heat-of-the-moment decision changed the trajectory of Wren Lewis’s entire life. Eighteen years later, now a single mother of two, her only wish is to sever the strings tying her to her puppet master father.
Even if it means accepting help from Max Brevard: the only man she’s ever loved.
Max
Well-acquainted with the painful flipside of love, Max Brevard convinced himself long ago he was better off without it. But when his sister and closest friends fall, he’s tempted to take another look.
The only woman he sees is the one he never got over.
He wasn’t ready for her then.
He’s ready now.
When the hand offering Wren everything she’s ever wanted belongs to the man who once walked away, how can she risk grabbing hold?
Tropes:
Small town
Later in Life
Second chance
Soul mates
Girl/Boy next door
Single mom
Special needs parenting
Mental health rep
This is a contemporary romance containing explicit love scenes and adult language.
And because there’s always room for more books, I offer you these:
Free Romance Newsletter Builder - where you can pick up Say It Again, the prequel to my Bridgewater Series!
Small Town Romance Lovers! - where you will find a whole host of authors to choose from.
Thank you for being here with me.❤️
As Always,
Live Messy, Love Madly,
Devin.
xo