Jodi Hills

So this is who I am – a writer that paints, a painter that writes…


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Checkpoint Charlie.

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Standing between East and West Berlin, I could feel the pull – the tug of every decision, every lure, every test, every lonely night, every hopeful day.  We, maybe it isn’t just me, are so often in this place, this place of transition.  This transition that seems so heavy, so earth shattering, so “you are leaving the American sector…”  We are forced to make the hard decisions.  Asked to be brave.  Asked to bear the unbearable.  Asked to believe in impossible things. We’re asked to climb walls and mountains, and somehow, through it all, find our way to love.  We’re expected to fall down, and get back up, and check that tiny piece beating deep inside and say, “OK, I can do this.”
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I don’t pretend to understand the weight and depth of the Berlin wall.  But I understand separation.  I understand change.  I understand freedom.  I understand, that even when I don’t understand, I can learn.  I can grow.  I can open myself up to the experience of others and offer my own.  I can be brave.  I can put one foot in front of the other and try.  I can push, and pull, and keep moving.  I can trust that walls are not permenent.  Fences, were made to be torn down.  Fear is the biggest wall.  Knowledge is the biggest freedom.  Love is the understanding.
Books were my first passport.  The world is now my turning page.  I stood at Checkpoint Charlie and gave thanks for my freedom.  I gave thanks for the freedom of others. I stood between two worlds and knew that we have come so far.  Knew that we have so far to go.
Every day I give thanks for the courage of open hearts and open minds.  Every day I pray that mine are so. I hear the distant warnings of “you are leaving” and I think, no, I’m just getting there.