Breathing The Air


Restorative Rituals for
Mental Health

Meaningful Self Care
for Moms


We sit together like this every week,
him and I,
and talk about it all.
It has been almost eight years now
since life fell apart for him,
a slow motion and steady

Hour by hour,
we seek to understand,
together, always together,
the needle that went in his arm,
the fall from grace,
the trust that cracked wide open
like lightening through a tree,
and never quite came back.

Who knows if we ever are
really whole again?
Or if we ever really were
whole to begin with?

There is simply the showing up,
the laying out of the pieces,
the looking at the way
a broken heart beats, until
the shame stops seeping through.
Until the light makes the shadows
a tad less less terrifying,
because we are not alone.

And then comes a day when
he comes in like any other day,
telling me stories of the trip he took
to far off places
that I will likely never go.
And what he remembers most,
he says, his voice
quiet, remembering,
is the air.
How there was something different
about the air.
It was softer somehow,
like he was  feeling and breathing
the atmosphere for the first time
in seven decades.

In his words,
I felt the air just as he did,
and closed my eyes, opened my lungs,
to feel it a little longer.

We have worked years
for this one moment,
I thought.
For him to notice and breathe
in a way that was full,
Finally alive.

I never knew until then that
this is how you rebuild a



  • 41

    As I enter into my 41st year, I felt a sudden desire to return here to my blog and write.  It has been awhile.  I have shared poems and other words on social media, and a few here as well.  But, it has been some time since I have sat down to reflect, write out

  • Hold On

    For you whose light has been dimmed in an already dark world— For you whose voice has been muted in a loud screaming world— For you who feels lost in a world full of mirrors— Breathe. When every warm body is out of reach, you have the power to hold your own heart with a

  • Waking Up

    Holding hands in the dark, the wash of moonlight spilling onto the sheets. A kiss on my cheek and a hug that lingers long enough to feel the solid warmth of skin and bone. The breath of a sunset sky, and the heat of thunder and lightning pouring cleansing waters from above. A singular burgundy