Blog Archive

There once was a true story of a middle aged woman (when did that happen?) who often didn’t know who she was.  She wanted to be able to give herself a title, a one or two word answer that she could put on a business card, to sum herself up to the world.  More than that, she wanted to know so that she knew what to say to herself in the mirror. She was someone who, at 12:25 am on a Thursday morning, had just finished two (big) bowls of Lucky Charms…and someone who 16 hours earl

A life lived in poetry is 10:08 pm on Monday night with my journal and pen and a restless, racing mind over tired shoulders that carry the weight of baggage I can’t seem to release. A life lived in poetry is the alchemy of this, the transformation of dying into living, of rumination into red ink, of ragged breath into lines and rows that form on the page, and create just a little order, but not too much, for the chaos within. A life lived in poetry means moments

Monday morning at 7:03 am. A layer of gray is settling across the heavy closed sky and threatening Monday rain. The water creeps into my cold bones that yearn only for the warmth of sun. A pause now to touch paper, hold this pen, see what grows from the heart. Before long, night will arrive, with not a breath taken, not a flower seen. Not a touch felt, not a soul held. We are disembodied limbs Walking past and through each other like lonely headlights through fog.

I am just sitting down in the early hours of Saturday morning with a cup of coffee and my journal.  My plan is to meditate for a few quiet moments, read a few pages of inspiration, do some morning free writing, and then get outside for some fresh air and a run. What is that saying about the best laid plans…? And of course, just as I sit down, coffee and pen in hand, the door to my bedroom bursts wide open and in runs my son.  He is dressed in a black and red head to toe ninja

Dear friends, I am sitting down in front of my laptop at 9:30 pm on Tuesday evening, writing you to say hello and let you know that I am thinking of each and every one of you.  Today was a day full of seeing patients, and I walk away from the office, inspired by the courage within each of us to keep going.  Life can be hard, and life can be beautiful, and I am reminded daily by my patients how both are simultaneously true facts. Our challenge is to hold whatever arises, for t

Anyways, breathe. Breathe. Pausing here, as I write the words, to feel the oxygen filling me as if for the first time. Noticing. This is life. The day to day, hour to hour, minute to minute. The waves of exasperation and irritation, and yes, shame and guilt and uncertainty too, dancing amongst the touches of beauty and joy. The mundane, spinning with the ecstasy. The dog barking at 6 am on Saturday, and coming down to a sink full of dirty dishes. The uncondi