Sometimes a poem wakes you up in the middle of the night. Like a baby kicking, it’s inside you, dancing with its own consciousness, until you must throw open your eyes and acknowledge its existence. Continue reading The Healing Power of the Poem
For a minute I consider dashing up there to grab my camera—this color is astonishing!—but I know that by the time I get back out here, the moment will have faded, and the day-to-day blue will have soaked all the rebellion from the clouds. Continue reading Sitting with impermanence
I drew people to me who had vacant spaces where love should be, and I shoveled myself into those holes, sweating and aching with the effort it takes to fill the unfillable. Continue reading Job Title: Hole-Filler (a letter of resignation)
For me, poetry has the power to heal, to transform. It is how I shake out the cobwebs of past shame and through open the curtains to shine light upon my darkness. Continue reading Writing to Heal and Finding My Breath
Trust requires so much vulnerability, so much letting go of control, so much surrender. To those of us raised on the American battlecry of independence and DIY, this notion of Trust seems so submissive. Continue reading Message from the Universe: TRUST.
This past weekend we took our little family on a mini-vacation to visit Chicago — see the sights, ride the train, show the kids the ‘Big City.’ But me for it meant so much more. Continue reading Returning Home
I have been scrambled lately. My lengthy To-Do lists and filmy future-dreams are whisked together into a froth inside my brain. Continue reading Hesitation Point
Reflections of a mom learning to witness her fears: I had a feeling going into this game Friday night that we might not come out on the winning side, and I was worried. Continue reading Losing, Fear, and Personal Power
I love it when I ‘believe’ things or ‘know’ them to be true in my guts and then find out that science is busy proving the same thing. Continue reading Thoughts on Thoughts, by a Half-Assed Scientist
I dedicate this post to my father-in-law. I think he would be pleased as punch to know he is the lead character in one of my essays. Continue reading Navigating Grief
Waking up Razzle-Dazzle 