Write a piece that ends in the same way it began. Incorporate something you do as part of your morning or evening ritual.

Gabriel García Márquez once said “All human beings have three lives: public, private, secret.” Does that ring true for you? How acquainted are you with each of these personas?

The self that is shown publicly is colored with shades that are appealing to most eyes. Easy going, quiet, doesn't cause any waves. Agreeable. Always patient and understanding. These parts were adored by adults in my younger life. "Your child is so polite." "She's so sweet." The clay of my body was under the mercy of those I loved and were meant to trust. But they held their power to the point of manipulation. So much control. They could uplift, or they could crush my Self under their harsh hands. These fragile parts quickly learned to scurry away, hide in the corners of my internal world.

My private self experiences countless other hues. Colors so bright and pure that my eyes can't help but cry at their beauty and innocence. "Don't those flowers look just like the stars in the sky?" Shades so dark that my body suspends in fear and lethargy. That I wish I could just give the energy it takes to carry my limbs to someone else in need. "Just think of how much more they could offer the world." And every color in between. My younger self learned this was either too much or too little. "Why would you say that?" "Get over it." Little did that child know, these colors are what give me life.

The pieces that have been safely hidden are known to few. I was taught that these ought to be the fuel for my shame, but "Fuck that." My capacity for love is only deepened as my inner Self carries these hidden pieces in a soft cloth, held close to her chest, nurturing them back to life.

As the true lights in my life have invited me into their safe embrace, my body has softened and slowly felt more whole.

Love is what all of our Selves crave. Love is what all of our Selves deserve.

Prompt: Who in your life has main character energy? Alternatively write a character who oozes main character energy.

come as you are

main character, frivolity
bartending martini
glasses rimmed in edible
glitter sounding the clank
of joy with cocktail shaker

main character, hospitality
of sparkling home wearing
stunning blue velvet jump
suit, party favors, endless refills

main character, sorrow
and gratitude, likening us
strong female friends
to elephants rallying
supporting, defending
guarding the downtrodden

main character absurd mirth
donning fur blanket diaper
bodily fluid discussions at holiday parties
necessitate redacted comments

side kick me licked the
sugar off the martini glass
rim putting great energy into not
spilling on the white carpet
laughing inappropriately loudly
crying about elephants

Prompt: Write a piece in second person. Be sure to incorporate what you wanted to be when you were a kid.

You had no idea, usually, of most things about your future. Instead of having any goals or opinions at all to speak of, you repeated those of others. This was the case no matter if they were crazy or inconsiderate, you parroted them.

There was the nurse thing, based on a book seen in the classroom. Yes, you were a girl and surely would become a nurse.

Then French class in high school. French teacher was in your future, especially since you were sure your accent was spot on. Were you delusional? Nobody at home could tell since they didn't speak any other languages.

But then university. Standing holding a lunch tray in the cafeteria looking for a place to sit, someone said, "Here, sit with us." And you were taken under the wings of a bunch of male engineering students. But Math, darned math. Not really in your capacity.

Two more side journeys, science, science, and more science. And that led to a career.

But the secret the entire time was still yours. And it had to do with pen and paper.

No time like the present.

Prompt: Gabriel García Márquez once said “All human beings have three lives: public, private, secret.” Does that ring true for you? How acquainted are you with each of these personas?

These are three very distinct personas to me. I’m well acquainted with my private and public lives but my secret one remains the most mysterious. Glimmers of my secret life show up in those private moments without anyone around. Thoughts of dipping into illicit pleasures or unshackling from societal expectations surface from time to time. I wonder if these thoughts become more frequent the longer they’re ignored. It reminds me once of a Lyft driver who once confided in me that if he weren’t lovingly married to his wife and a devoted father to their children, he would date men. When asked why he hasn’t brought it up with his wife he replied, “It would devastate her.” Some part of me was devastated too, hearing that. I wonder if true freedom, living in full alignment means a collapsing of these three personas into one being.

Prompt: In what areas of your life do you find chaos? Clarity? Has it always been that way? What metaphor represents the movement from chaos to clarity for you? The inverse? Perhaps write a story where chaos ↔️ clarity is an arc.

The kitchen is always perpetually dirty. Messy. Every day, five adults, one large dog, and one active three-year-old frequent its wooden floors. Each of which drags their days in, leaving remnants of all the events that preceded them. Whenever someone cooks a meal, a little bit gets left behind on the marble counters or the handle of the fridge. The dog respectfully admires the square space from a distance. Occasionally shaking to let hair drift in as it sparkles in the sunlight that shines through the kitchen window.

That's why those quiet moments of the midday are so special to Allison. She can sneak into the kitchen with her favorite natural soaps and erase all evidence of the activity. She's got her favorite broom and vacuum, too. Particular sponges that are better are scrubbing away tough spots. The feeling she achieves when it's finally clean is similar to that of true contentment—peace of mind. There's something about those empty, clean spaces that make the mind feel safe enough to roam.

To Allison, living in a mess and chaos feels too much like her former life. One that was filled with poverty, mental illness, and destructive behavior. There's a particular kind of desperate relenting that occurs in those kinds of situations. Life gets to be, "all too much." So, why clean? More mess awaits you tomorrow. Lean in! Leave it for someone else.

Allison never saw it that way. To her, cleanliness is opportunity whereas messiness is abandonment—of self, presence in the world, and participation in life.

Books are mirrors: you only see in them what you already have inside you.