I am ashamed at how messy my life is becoming. I cleaned the drawers, ordered dividers, intent on making it neat, I have been absolutely convinced that I, we, were rounding the corner to sanitation. Order and calm so cool and convincing I was already placing my face on that cold side of the pillow,…
I grew up with the narrative that the world was against us. Every time my father tried for something I held my breath, I gripped the airplane seat to keep it all afloat. And if he failed, I had failed, the world had failed, god had failed us, me, for I didn’t know how to…
What a beautiful, trembling, motivator of a card. Who knows why we start anew? Who knows the reasons that we step out into faith, into vastness and journeys both treacherous and full of bounty. It’s Father’s Day, and like many others, I was gifted a Father who suffered and caused suffering, unchecked mental illness, severe…
Yesterday I saw someone had posted a picture of Santa kneeling next to a very white baby Jesus. There was that usual fluffy hay to prop the holy baby, rays of divine light surrounding him. Santa peered over him, his knee bent in exaltation, his face peering ever so curiously at the son of god….
I keep pulling you, right side up and upside down and I feel my stomach do that plunk move. Right to the bottom floor. I’m so tired of being messy. When I listen to that sweet little salve, she says, messy is fun, use the messy, you do it well and with humor and grace….
Aaron tells me that I am a nice mommy, you’re being so nice. When am I not nice? Although I know my patience runs thin at times. We women have been leaving the workplace in droves, rushing about, teaching, scheduling, cleaning, exposing the rust underneath that even with choices this system doesn’t always run the…
We decided to initially leave the church because of the children, well, it was a catalyst, little did I know that that big, scary decision would stumble me out of that stone building and land me in the big, wide world, the whole symphony a church, the whole landscape full of incantations and prayers and…
My heart, baby briar of a sweet little kernel. Strong oak. I used to write poems filled with tortured verses of unrequited love, of violence in my home and extreme penance and punishment. My young heart ached because I let myself smoke weed and be fucked and have these desires. What was there all along?…
Two Years ago my partner, John, had unexpected strokes that led us on down an unbeknownst path of a heart infection which led to open heart surgery and a fight for his life. Our children were 5,3, and 1 years old, and we were faced literally with John’s mortality. What ensued for the next year…
The other day I woke up with that heavy, gritty feeling of sadness, the deep in the mud, skipping rocks sleep, heavy lidded and foreboding kinda blues. The blues that make me feel one dimensional in every way. I did my ritual of gratitude before my feet hit the ground, I set my intention. I…