Picture me, standing in front of my full length mirror, 9 years old with long brown hair. I’m imagining that I’ve just been noticed by the prince. He calls my name. I turn to the mirror, take a long bow, and we make eye contact. He’s chosen me! Now I’m…
I try and hold onto the moment, living present, savoring it, but for some reason, the effort just fills me with a deep sadness that I have trouble understanding or putting words to.
Where is Peace? On a mountain above the clouds? In a field of yellow sunflowers? On a still boat in the middle of a lake? In a cabin surrounded by tall birch trees? On a beach of golden sand at sunset? Where is peace? During a nap on the couch?…
When words fail: an unexpected gift of grief. Words were my super-power, until they were gone. What remained was peace.
How a trip to the amusement park reminded me of my dad.
You and a friend are in a canoe, oars in your hands, heading out on an adventure. You’re paddling away, visiting waterfalls, canyons, and placid streams, chit chatting. After a while, you find yourself getting tired and weary. When you take a break, your boat stops moving. Confused, you turn…
Where am I looking? At the dust in the corners? At other people’s feeds? At my own failures? At the faults in humanity? Where am I looking? At the to do list? At my unread emails? At the unfolded laundry? At the frozen chicken that won’t make itself? Where am…