My friend Simon Hudson wrote this story. It’s about Montana, it’s about difficult teenage years, it’s about finding yourself… And it’s about him.
People come with stories. I could sense that Simon’s was rich and deep. I could sense it through his soft half smiles or the intelligence of his words. He writes beautifully, as you’ll discover if you click through, but it’s the way in which he speaks that made me wonder.
Simon speaks softly, kindly, from the heart. If you discuss with him he’ll take your thoughts and make sense of them. He’ll distill what they mean and offer them back to you in a way that makes everything clearer. He does so modestly, as if he was only responsible for the words, not the thoughts. It’s not true, naturally. He’s not just the wordsmith. He’s the thinker, the analyst.
How does one become such a self-effacing yet deep and compassionate thinker? I guess the big skies of Montana have something to do with it.
Thanks for this story Simon, it moved me.