#anna ritchie

I remember throwing your bear under the desk and telling you it was outside, the dogs had gotten hold of it and were ripping it to shreds.

You wept. Mom and Dad spanked you, sent you to bed. “We’ve told you three times that it’s bedtime.”

I retrieved the bear and said “Elizabeth, it was under this desk all the time.”

I slept on the top bunk that night instead of in the queen size with you.

I didn’t realize that almost fifteen years later I’d ask you to sleep in my twin size with me because my boyfriend left me. Neither did I realize that you’d be soon to leave me, to sleep in your twin size bunk. Gray sheets, tucked neatly. Formation at zero six hundred. I never would have thought I’d take your bear, the one I’d hidden many nights ago. I’d sleep with it, hold Him tightly, wish you were still home.

If you take a moment, And you don’t check A strangers’ latest update. A friend’s last tweet. Before you tell the world just how good your breakfast was And just how many calories you’ll burn.

Before you finish that last exam In time to write a paper, orally present, file your paperwork, work the phones, study, write one more paper, In time…

If you take a moment To reconsider your priorities.

A world seeps of mystery, Dripping adventure like the maple drips off The very tree it produces. A universe where everything is connected And learning never ends. A place where there will always be somewhere not yet traveled. A place inviting you into its midst.

A world archaic with a love lost. At one time thriving With adventurers, scholars, Travelers and thrill-seekers. Now bogged down with duty.

Filled with a people who are so concerned With making a car payment so they can Get to work, so they can pay for their house, So they can have a nice place to rest So they can go to work. So they can pay for their car and house So they can go to work.

Filled with people in a senseless cycle, So absorbed that they don’t even notice its Meaninglessness.

I remember throwing your bear under the desk and telling you it was outside, the dogs had gotten hold of it and were ripping it to shreds.

You wept. Mom and Dad spanked you, sent you to bed. “We’ve told you three times that it’s bedtime.”

I retrieved the bear and said “Elizabeth, it was under this desk all the time.”

I slept on the top bunk that night instead of in the queen size with you.

I didn’t realize that almost fifteen years later I’d ask you to sleep in my twin size with me because my boyfriend left me. Neither did I realize that you’d be soon to leave me, to sleep in your twin size bunk. Gray sheets, tucked neatly. Formation at zero six hundred. I never would have thought I’d take your bear, the one I’d hidden many nights ago. I’d sleep with it, hold Him tightly, wish you were still home.

Personas Are People Too: 5 Ways to Keep Your Buyer Personas On-Target

[vc_row][vc_column width="1/1"][vc_column_text]Across the internet, content marketing gurus agree that one key to a successful content strategy is keeping your content fresh through regular publication of original or curated content that’s appealing and useful to your audience.[/vc_column_text][vc_row_inner][vc_column_inner width="1/2"][vc_column_text]

How to assure that?

Here again, the gurus…