She has lived on my skin for 15 years. A promise of return; the darkness always temporary. I never thought of myself as an eagle. I don't consider love to be god,Because, I don't believe in god. I believe in love more than the migration of birds. More than the science of flock. My talons... Continue Reading →
I stayed in bed all morning.Sun through the large window,bathing the cat and my calves in January sunbursts, rays of yellow. The coffee spilled; I didn't mind. I am unbothered. I absorb only light, only breath. The yous around me vanishuntil I say "you are the you right now".I orchestrate the time for entering; exiting.I... Continue Reading →
Focused on the fucking heart that has been jumping out of my throat. That skin I've kept trying to change. I am quiet. Which doesn't mean silent,but rather finally able to feel the scream. How sometimes it felt like choking on coagulated clots. Even in moments I loved. Ones I felt full of sound. The... Continue Reading →
To bud life at the root, you must cut off the dead. Slice through the heart of what is no longer growing. Trap the energy in the fingerlings that reach up and out to portals that are waiting for new, green sprouts. Blooms buried so deep the only way to coax them out is a... Continue Reading →
It's just under my pink paper skin.The deep, dark sadness that comes from a year of waiting. Holding. Staying. Everything a wash of blurred grey;the clearness of lines, gone. Facessunken from lack of color, eyes downcast, limbs treading water like dogs nearly swept under a current of chaos. I am small. Sinking into myself morewith... Continue Reading →
The world stopped, and so did that section of my soul that has to throw itself into written words. The writing. The poems. The scribbles in the notebook. (Ok, a few words written at the screen in panic/devastation/frustration. So much so, I forgot I even wrote them. But that was it.) It all just froze... Continue Reading →
A little over a year ago I did a thing that truly changed me. I bought a ticket to the Brave Magic writing workshop in the Redwoods of Santa Cruz where I got to learn from two of my writing inspirations: Cheryl Strayed and Elizabeth Gilbert. Now that the Fall air is starting to settle... Continue Reading →
I started journaling. (I hate this term because it reminds me of being told in Sunday School growing up that we should "journal". In practice, I really believe it to be an important tool, but I want to call it something else.) So, I'm going to call it chronicling. Because, I do what I want.... Continue Reading →
Make a wish over a flame. Bring home fresh herbs like basil and lavender. Spend some money on fresh cut flowers like jasmine (sensuality), rose (love), and gardenias (peace). Take the shortest night of the year to stay up all night and set intentions. These are all small rituals you can do to welcome the... Continue Reading →
I wrote this two weeks ago: Not very often in my life do I feel so overwhelmed or stretched thin that I feel close to breaking. In fact, my breaking point is so incredibly hard to get to, I sometimes wonder if I have one. I also sometimes wonder that if my breaking point were... Continue Reading →
I remember so much about the first day we met (eight years ago today). I had put the date off and rescheduled a few times because typically, first dates are a wash. I had no idea that this one would be different. I remember you asked me what I would be wearing since I was... Continue Reading →
This past weekend, I attended a small, intimate writing workshop on mindfulness and creative writing. I heard about it only the day before it happened and when I read the description, I felt pulled to go immediately. Now, if you know me––you'll understand that I calendar the shit out of my life. I am two... Continue Reading →
In The Way 