I got a message from someone I haven't heard from in 12 years.
I'm standing there, leaning on the kitchen counter and staring down at my phone. I'm trying to figure out if I'm seeing things. I haven't even had my coffee yet (it's still brewing).
Seeing their name pop up was sort of jarring, but brought an immediate smile to my face. We only really knew each other for a little over 3 months. I mean, we spent every day together during that time... but still. We met as group members of the same NOLS semester; on a 90-day backcountry trip across the Rocky Mountain West.
"I read your posts. Dude, keep writing."
Holy shit.
You're kidding.
The coffee maker's gurgling and I'm re-reading the message again. Writing helps me think. Before I started publishing my own stuff, I really wasn’t sure anyone would be interested in what I had to say about, well... me.
"I specifically remember the way you’d tell stories. It was engaging but personal at the same time. I remember the way you’d talk and it was just… real."
Wow.
Even now, after growing this publication for a few years, I always sort of forget that people actually read it. I don’t know why I’m always gobsmacked when I get compliments on my writing but they never seem to sink in. It’s not that I don’t appreciate them; quite the opposite, actually.
I... don’t know.
It just catches me SO off guard when someone’s like “I read your stuff and I like it a lot.” I’m always like whoa… people read stuff I publish. Wow. Wait cool!
While pouring my coffee, I shake my head.
One day it won't feel so bizarre.
Maybe.
* * *
If you're reading this, thank you doesn't even come close.
onward.
For more on this daily column, read the backstory here. And if you know someone who'd appreciate this, pass it along.