Blog Archive

Where I Don’t Belong

In today’s installment of what’s beautiful, I only first found what was broken, until I caught a fleeting glimpse of what laid...

Red Lipstick and the Quest For Perfection

“You awake? :)))” “Yes!” “Do you have the energy for me to unload some of my crazy on you? :)))” “Yes!” And so our text exchange began,...

Fragile

In a different life, I took scalpel to skin, cut through fibrous layers of muscle and fascia to the very deepest core of our biology, ...

The Hustle

For the most part, I have always considered it a good thing to “hustle.” The very word conjures up images of burning the midnight lamp,...

Soaring

We could wait for a thousand days and nights, a lifetime really, to be given the green light. The sign that we are good enough to...

The Power of Small

I recently took a six week mindfulness course with the wonderful Cayce Howe. He started and ended the course with two pearls of wisdom...

The Love Of A Child

Last week, I returned home from work to find my kids excitedly scurrying around the kitchen. On the counter lay cupcakes in a flower...

The Big 4-0: Twelve Things I (sort of) Know For Sure

With my birthday rapidly approaching, I set out to write a post about “What I Know For Sure” after forty revolutions around the sun. And...

Living Slow, Thinking Fast

Today was a day of living slow yet thinking fast, all of which is to say that life unfolded only in my head with little to no direct...

All The Questions

Sometimes when the loudness around us has settled into a quiet lull, let’s ask each other all the questions that pulse deep within....

Now

Somewhere between dreaming big and living in small, ordinary moments, I am lost without a compass. There are fleeting thoughts of ...

Landscape

The landscape of my body holds stories that will never be told, perhaps even words that I have never known– ancient dictionaries...

There Is Time

Within us echoes the quiet wail, “There is no time, There is no time.” Time is lost in the striving to fill empty spaces that can...

A True Story

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...

Magic

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...