What did you do to pass the time? She said, checking her watch. Digital. Big. A thick gold cuff around her wrist that made her bones look even smaller.
After reading The Nightingale, WW2 won’t get out of my head. A good book transports you; a great book makes you forget that you aren’t actually there. France in WW2 is not the happiest place to take a mental vacation. But I can’t help but see the significance in modern times, how I ended the… Continue reading The Nightingale and Now: A Trip to WW2
The ‘next great American novel’ is likely one without distinguishable grid lines. It is the voice of a refugee fleeing terror or an illegal immigrant fighting poverty. It has no real roots except where one is running from. It is a story for the road.
“Women are still in emotional bondage as long as we need to worry that we might have to make a choice between being heard and being loved.” ― Marianne Williamson, A Woman’s Worth This isn’t to say we are victims. We are not. We have been conditioned, sure. To divide love into parts: what is acceptable; what… Continue reading Being Heard and Being Loved
for as long as i can remember the children cried the pots seared and the tea boiled for as long as i can remember the breeze was outside while the smoke was in i’d swat at the flies i’d ruffle the bed i’d wait i’d cry while the children slept, i’d pause again for the hour… Continue reading past life inheritance – breaking old social structures
Living in this state of readiness is what I call Creative Mindfulness. You can train yourself to be swept up by any project that inspires you (rather than putting it off for another time, or giving up on it all together). Here’s how.
Today is a good day for acceptance.
Today, I accept myself.
I send this poem out with intense acceptance for myself. I’ve completed it, and therefore, I’ve already won.
Sometimes I forget that I’m creative, that I came here, in a sea of traveling light that can illuminate even my darkest ideas. “What’s wrong with me?” is the mantra that has created elaborate worry. Illnesses in my head, potential threats and warlocks, taking over the healthy parts of my body. Making them dead. Dizzy… Continue reading tonight, i forget. tonight, i remember.
Maybe I should write, too. I coach clients to become better wordsmiths, storytellers, listeners, writers. I tell them to bleed onto the page, hold nothing but your passive voice back; make me care and think and bleed, too. Words punctual as divine timing. I do this, and I wonder if it’s some past life prayer… Continue reading Thoughts, post-beer, after shedding some wardrobe.