“So even if the hot loneliness is there, and for 1.6 seconds we sit with that restlessness when yesterday we couldn’t sit for even one, that’s the journey of the warrior.” Pema Chödrön, When Things Fall Apart When I say I want love, I open myself up to pain. Hurt from unkissed moments, and regret from
I had a flash of a memory today. My sister Kelsey and I are sitting in a Seattle restaurant. I think we order burgers, or at least I do. We’re at Nickerson Street Saloon and it’s sunny outside. We’re looking directly at each other, in matching brown hair and dark brown eyes, leaning back in sturdy wooden chairs. I
There are moments, beautiful silent moments that I feel safe. I feel whole, completely. I am heard and held and still. Hands fit, the sun sets, and the warm air holds us close. It is in those moments that I recognize again that I am enough. Today is enough. How will it end? How does
Death sucks. I realize this is not the most profound thing to be said all week, but it’s true, and I feel it, and sometimes it’s nice to make space for a bit of reality. Last Friday evening I got a call that a family member had died. He passed away, suddenly, by his own
my mom is not the sentimental type. she’s the tell-it-like-is and let’s-be-super-practical type. but being a mom? loving her children? this woman’s there, both feet, all in. can’t complain about that. here are a few things she’s taught me along the way… 1. there are those who love math. they’re people too. 2. do whatever
Kathryn is one of my many sisters and I think she’s pretty cool. So, when we she asked me to be in her wedding and maybe make a video, I said yes. This is what I do when I’m not blogging. I hang out in the woods in Virginia.
It’s the anniversary of my dad’s death—another year, another day. And I’m okay this time around. It’s not all tragedy, but rather a piece of complicated narrative that has shaped me, haunted me, and freed me. It has given me permission to pursue adventure, embrace love, risk heartache, and fight for truth. It has given me
Do you want me to tell you something really subversive? Love is everything it’s cracked up to be. That’s why people are so cynical about it. It really is worth fighting for, being brave for, risking everything for. And the trouble is, if you don’t risk anything, you risk everything. Erica Jong I first read
i fell in love once. oftentimes we regret those happenings, those mistakes, lessons, stories. those where we give and share and realize it won’t work, it can’t, it shouldn’t. but i fell in love once and i knew someone loved me for who I was. and that feeling, that knowing, that was worth it.
maybe it’s the bottle of champaign i split with my roommate. maybe it’s the chocolate brownies we shared for dessert. maybe it’s the fact i am employed by a company that i really wanted to be a part of. maybe it’s all of that. either way, i’m happy. i’m writing it down because it feels
it was just one of those weeks. nothing too awful, just pain. the kind that makes you grab at your chest, holding your hand over your heart, somehow wondering if you might just start bleeding–everywhere–because it hurts. it aches. it was one of those weeks. and somehow it has to get out. there are tears
yesterday i wandered around target in a daze, a 27-year-old with dementia. what am i here for? where is it? what can i get that will make my best friend’s apartment feel like home, my home. then i realized that was my problem, looking for home in the middle of a linoleum aisle and red