Parable of the Forest

A Forest With No Names

This is where I'll place the stories of my life. They're all true. Stay tuned. All the names in my stories are changed in order to protect the people in them.

Of course, names don't matter in the Forest With No Names. Only the truth matters here:

In Through the Looking Glass Alice wanders to some strange woods where she forgets her name. She befriends a fawn who isn't afraid of her at all -- a human child. This is because the fawn doesn't know that it's a fawn and Alice doesn't know that she's a human child. That's how it works with the Forest With No Names: Fear doesn't exist in it.

"This must be the wood," she said thoughtfully to herself, "where things have no names." (162, Carrol)

And since there's no burden of names, and no fear, everyone can be themselves, and truth and friendship can have a chance. It's easy to be your authentic self in the Forest with no Names. That's the parable of the forest.

I will place bits and pieces of my stories here as I finish writing them. The pieces will come in no particular, logical order. I will also keep making changes to what I've written. Delete and rewrite. It'll be messy and constantly evolving, so I apologize for that in advance.

I believe in the worth of telling our true stories, yours and mine. When we stick our necks out, honestly, and without compromise, even risking looking like fools, something important happens. There's a shift. There's healing. Not just in the person telling the story, but in the person listening to it too.

I believe in that small act of bravery, in its power to change the world, the people around you. I've seen it happen. Somewhere in the crowd some unknown person is helped by that truth, and because of it finds the courage to tackle their own wounds.

I encourage you to tell your true story. In whatever manner that feels comfortable, whatever format or language. Even when it's hard, even when there's no time, or when no one seems to listen. I know that someone will listen, if you try.

The other day I had a moment of frustration. I was tired of trying to find ways to tell my story. I asked God: "When will I have the TIME and OPPORTUNITY to write my story? Will it ever happen for me?" And then this song came from the radio, reminding me of the importance of my task, and to never give up. If you knew my story you'd know how perfectly the lyrics of this song comments on my situation.

God was listening.

Back to Her


The Terror of Me

The Storm

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