Every Sunday (well, almost every Sunday) since 2005 I start Sunday off with reading PostSecret. I was utterly fascinated for awhile and told everyone I knew about it. Now that I’m mom I sneak up earlier than usual to enjoy my coffee and secrets in quiet. In all this time, there have been many secrets that me me realize my life could be better and that it could also be way worse. I’ve laughed, I’ve been angry, I’ve been inspired. All these pieces of paper, items, etc are magic.
I don’t know why I’ve never sent in in a secret. I’m sure I have some secrets that are interesting enough to tell. Or maybe none are that exciting which makes me feel like I really need to be living more.
The lack of secrets may be a good thing, but the lack of self fulfillment is clearly not.