Category Archives: Writings

Shopping for eggs has its own charm out here in the country. I just head out across the pasture, near the family’s garden, and past the new apple, peach, and plum trees to a dilapidated and weathered round hay bale. That’s where the “Easter basket” sits, always full of surprises. The other day it heldContinue reading “Back to Boring”

This exercise was fun. There’s no action or characters, it’s simply describing a place or a space. Enjoy! It’s December. Frost clings to the glass, the contrast between inside and outside are as stark as night and day. Outside, things are brown, brittle, and fading; inside, it’s a small, green world holding onto life. WeContinue reading “Descriptive Prose: A Writing Exercise”

Somewhere in middle America, a family of 10 to 20 will gather, seated in a circle in the living room, their spirits lifted despite the reason for their being there. Story after story will spill from their hearts, as if their entire lives have been woven together into a quilt, stitched together for just thisContinue reading “Grieving Well”

I sat there like a freshly cut stump, thinking about the direction of my life. With my body planted on the shower’s tiled floor, water poured over my head, streaming down my neck, arms, back, and legs. Just like every other time I’d broken down on a shower floor, seeking the heat’s healing properties, IContinue reading “Flowers on the Wall”

Just before the sweet pull of sleep dragged me under, I had a brilliant lightbulb moment for this post. But when I finally woke up after a ten-minute snooze, my battery felt recharged, yet poof—the brilliance had vanished into that invisible space where neglected thoughts go to die. I’m feeling somber. Otis Redding’s “(Sittin’ On)Continue reading “The Best of Me”

See you tomorrow. Too sleepy. Love, Jaclynn

I’ve got this shaky boulder in my chest. At first, I thought it was just the double-shot of coffee, but it’s been lingering for over an hour now. It’s insecurity—this nagging feeling that sends me combing through the nearest worries in my mind like I’m searching for something hidden, something I never find. In thatContinue reading “Stillness in the Wild”

The book Conscious Loving was a wedding gift from my second cousin, Kaya. I’d flipped through it’s pages once or twice, like the back cover of some edgy VHS from a dusty rental shop. It felt too fringe, too out there. I was intrigued but not enough to dive in, so it sat on theContinue reading “Sexual Healing”