My maiden name is Penman. I’ve been told my ancestors wrote letters for the Queen’s court. I had pen pals in my youth and hand write letters to my niece.
Growing up is not on my bucket list.
If it was, I’d be a librarian. Or perhaps a bibliotherapist.
When faced with the decision to change my surname I waited until the last minute to decide.
Both sister-in-laws kept their maiden names.
Had this set a precedent, I wondered.
On the eve of our wedding day I asked my husband if he wanted to change his surname.
No, but you don’t need to change yours.
What sort of Mother has a different name from her children?
Words bind us.
Our sons are teenagers now.
262 days of lockdown over two years encouraged me to go inwards.
I spent sacred time with myself.
I learnt to journal. Properly.
I learnt to meditate.
I continue to enjoy the cumulative benefit of these rituals.
Life slowed down and the pace suited me.
I returned home to myself and rediscovered my True Voice, or KPH, as I like to call her.
KPH is with me when I write. With every new day she offers words of wisdom. She guides me as I journal.
To encourage my penmanship, I’ve asked my son to design a logo for KPH.
He asked if he’d be paid.
What do you think it’s worth?
We negotiated a price.
I’m reminded of this Chinese proverb by Lao Tzu.
A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.
Today I have continued the journey of my True Voice, KPH.
I look forward to experiencing where this step takes me.
Image source: Emily Park
