Category Archives: Writings

I need a writing group. A small one. Is a duo — myself and one other — considered a group? Yes. The definition says it can be. It’s just that too many voices, too many ideas, too many personalities dampen intimacy. And I need intimacy. I need to hand someone my key willingly and say,Continue reading “The Darkness and the Light”

I’m in a “do the bare minimum” mood. Except when it comes to refreshing the house — there, I’m kicking dust bunnies’ butts. I take my O-Cedar mop, toe-press the lever to let physics spin the water out, and swipe along the inch-deep tops of the baseboards. I’d walked into the office — aka theContinue reading “Here Kitty Kitty”

I told Dave I needed him today — another small step of my feet inching toward security in another person, toward trust, toward healing. Outwardly, those words are the most fragrant, vibrant blooms in the bunch, but I know the pricks of the thorns that stood — and still stand — in my way. ToContinue reading “Unbreaking My Heart”

Every so often, I seek a teacher — preferably spiritual or philosophical — to swaddle me in the cushiony comfort of the inner psyche. Whether it’s the wisdom itself or simply the experience of listening to someone’s calm words or voice, I don’t really care. It’s like the first half of a beer, or aContinue reading “When I Think About You I Trust Myself”

Damn, that Market Spice tea from Pike Place in Seattle is good. I’m not a fan of the cost, but semi-sweetened with orange peels and a handful of bright spices — like cinnamon apple pie — it makes sipping a hot beverage feel like a spa massage for my mouth. Something from a session earlierContinue reading “How Close is Too Close”

It’s a cold day for a birthday. Being the house person I am, I stayed inside — working, helping Evelyn with her upper- and lowercase writing, and reading my book. I can’t say my birthday was something for the books — and yet, after a two-mile walk/jog, a call with one of my oldest friends,Continue reading “Whittling Wood”

Every so often, vulnerability in writing swirls together with a checked-out, ennui kind of feeling. It’s a blizzard. I’m less interested in the why and more interested in getting over it—jumping past it, shimmying into a more comfortable spot. Something about dreaming of this weekend’s getaway to an Airbnb in South Carolina put a littleContinue reading “Another Trip ‘Round”

I am in a bathtub filled with unicorn pee.Or strawberry Skittles vomit.The water is pink. Yesterday’s bath bomb experience—courtesy of a cross-country gift package sent by my bestie—left me off-gassing like I’d partied at a rave with pixies and fairies. Words I say so rarely that I first got stuck on fixies, then had toContinue reading “Pink Pony Bath Bomb”

I’ve taken it upon myself to be our family’s concierge for our upcoming Disney World vacation. I am no expert. I do, however, have an expert next door—an annual passholder—whose brain will happily be picked and picked and picked. I took notes last time. My action items include printing maps of the five parks andContinue reading “A Stroll For the Soul”