Monday morning at 7:03 am. A layer of gray is settling across the heavy closed sky and threatening Monday rain. The water creeps into my cold bones that yearn only for the warmth of sun. A pause now to touch paper, hold this pen, see what grows from the heart. Before long, night will arrive,
Anyways, breathe. Breathe. Pausing here, as I write the words, to feel the oxygen filling me as if for the first time. Noticing. This is life. The day to day, hour to hour, minute to minute. The waves of exasperation and irritation, and yes, shame and guilt and uncertainty too, dancing amongst the touches of
We are on a late afternoon walk, my 10 year old daughter and I, on this Wednesday afternoon. School and work are done for the day, and we settle into a brief pause before homework and dinner and the evening routines. We walk towards a gravel path that winds over mossy green hills and creaky
Creeping through the hallways of my dreams What is true? What is the mind, spinning half awake half asleep half truths? Even in the walking, the peering into dark doorways of possibilities and never chosen paths, the feeling inside is real and alive. How the body remembers this deep desire to discover a room that
The blank page is like the blank morning sky at 5:30 and 6:10 and 6:30. A canvas I have seen infinite times before and yet never like this, never this deep shade of indigo unfolding to grey tinged with hints of pink and orange until a proud blue sky emerged, until rays of light flooded my room, and an
This past weekend, I had the opportunity to attend the Wisdom 2.0 conference in San Francisco, California. This conference is rapidly becoming one of my favorites–not just because I can attend in yoga pants and tennis shoes, but because the conference brings together some of the greatest minds and hearts in mindfulness, compassion, technology, and
I have a confession to make. Last week, here on my blog, I published a poem I had written called “Dreams and Hail.” I had written the poem several weeks ago, and intended to share it back then at the time of writing it. However, circumstances changed, and I instead wrote something else, and tucked
Sometimes words visit me in the middle of the night, flashes of poetry and song. And I feel like a dreamcatcher, a witness of stories being offered in ways that I could never have deserved. And the only way to respond is with profound gratitude, for these words that chose me of all people at
It is 10:05 pm on Wednesday night. Within these four walls, my children sleep. I write and dream and read and eat chocolate chip cookies, and soon, I will sleep. Outside of these four walls, it feels like chaos is erupting. The days are spent trying to understand what type of impact I can have.
Why have I been silent all of these years? A quiet, sterile surface, afraid of not having answers, afraid of my own ignorance and privilege, afraid of ruffling feathers. I have been silent. Silent like tears falling at night, silent like a flower wilting to powder, silent like storm clouds brewing. Silent. But now, the
“Have I made enough progress? ” she asked, electric anxiety coursing through her words, and a certain familiar tremble in her voice. What is the true question, I wondered. Is she enough now? Is she worthy now, of love, of attention, of respect? Could she finally rest? Echoes of questions that I have posed to
As 2016 winds down, I am amazed at how quickly another year has flown by. The quote that comes to my mind is this one: “The days are long, but the years are short.” Indeed. Each day feels long, full, often challenging, and yet months and years somehow slip through my fingers like fine sand.
I remember being a very sensitive child growing up. I was always attuned to the emotional state of others, aware of energetic shifts and the pain of those around me. Similarly, I was easily affected by the words and actions of those around me. It only took a quick, off handed comment or a sideways
I believe in the power of setting intentions. These days, I find that when I open my eyes, I feel quickly overwhelmed. I think about all of the things that need to get done, what I am forgetting, if I am running behind, and I find my day has gotten away from me before my
As someone who has always loved to read and write, I have always believed in the immense power of words. Words create beauty, evoke feeling, tell the stories that tie us to our lives and our experiences and ultimately to each other. Yet the power of words took on an entirely different dimension when I