Writer of Words, Hoper of Hope, Liver of Life
It’s a word typically used to describe a characteristic of a group of living beings. It’s been used in many different, and quite varied, settings. “Homeless community”. “Church community”. It’s a way that people categorize themselves, identify themselves, and label themselves and others, good and bad. Some communities carry a negative connotation. Some make people… Continue reading Community
Who inspires you to be a better human? Is it your pastor? Your partner? A relative? Superhero? Your mom? It’s not an easy thing to find in today’s culture in America. Inspiration? Hope? Every where we look, we see polarity. Arguments. Bullying. People who profit from and support the suffering of others. How deeply do… Continue reading Who inspires you to be a better human?
“We may act sophisticated and worldly but I believe we feel safest when we go inside ourselves and find home, a place where we belong and maybe the only place we really do.” ~Maya Angelou
That was the question written on his sign as he stood on the side of the road at the exit ramp.
Dysfunction in my family of origin went unnoticed by me until I started college. Silence in my childhood home was only interrupted by the most mundane of conversations – “what’s for dinner?”, “Unload the dishwasher before I get home.”, “Get your shoes before you miss the bus.” My mother had a new arts and crafts… Continue reading The Importance Of Picking A Damn Good Baby Daddy
A beautiful spring day when the sky is an endless, cerulean blue with big fluffy, marshmallow clouds. A hug so warm it seeps into your spirit, sometimes a fire that burns your fingers. The sunlight glinting on the lake throwing diamonds in your eyes with every ripple.
What’s the number? How much does integrity cost? Jesus loves the little children. What number does the GDP reflect when it becomes acceptable to mock a disabled human publicly? The insidious implication that protectors of a nation are suspicious. The blatant introduction of national enemies into infrastructure. All the children of the world. Boys will… Continue reading What’s The Number?
The only one who had a plan and a purpose for me was the Universe. My destiny was to never be enough. I entered your journey as a mistake - my life a burden to yours.
Holiday season is here. Break out the turkeys, casseroles, Christmas carols, gifts, and family. We all picture the cozy family gatherings viewed through a frozen, candlelit window pane amidst snow softly falling. We don’t ever imagine the actual train wreck it is for many of us. The reality is, for those among us in recovery, those among us who are LGBT, those of us who are desperately trying to establish our own truths about our identities as adults, that family ends up being a place where we don’t belong. Aunt Edith is going to whisper (loudly) all the latest gossip about cousin Ned’s latest stint in rehab so that everyone within a 50 mile radius can hear it. Another relative is going to ask gay cousin Jim what happened to his last “friend”. Granny is going to get pissed because the rolls are burning and no one can be bothered with helping. And God knows that someone is going to bring up politics.
“How do you eat an elephant? One bite at a time.” We’ve all heard the cliché describing the undertaking of anything that seems overwhelming. So it is with signing up for a writing course when you’ve never written anything for publication. Except it isn’t. Does fear of vulnerability, exposure, or failure exist at the prospect of eating an elephant?
