Children, Daughter, Discipline, Family, God, Integrity, Recovery, Related, Unconditional Love

A Life Affair With Sobriety

Today I celebrate 25 years sober. In a week, I’ll celebrate 52 years of age. It’s a good marking point for reflecting on a life affair with sobriety. I managed to survive the first 17 years without alcohol by honing my sarcastic and comedic skills. I coped with the shit show of my life by… Continue reading A Life Affair With Sobriety

Art, Children, Christian, Daughter, Discipline, Evangelical, Family, Integrity, Love, Recovery, Related, Religion, Unconditional Love, Writing

Community

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

Children, Daughter, Discipline, Family, Grandmother, Holidays, Integrity, Love, Mama, Mother, Recovery, Related, Unconditional Love, Writing

The Importance Of Picking A Damn Good Baby Daddy

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

Children, Christian, Conservative, Democrat, Discipline, Evangelical, God, Integrity, Liberal, Love, Politics, President, Recovery, Religion, Republican

What’s The Number?

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?

Daughter, Family, Granddaughter, Grandmother, Holidays, Love, Mama, Mother, Recovery, Related, Unconditional Love, Writing

Happy Holidays From The Cheap Seats

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.

Art, Discipline, Marathon, Medal, Recovery, Running, Training, Unconditional Love, Writing, Yoga

Lessons In Training For A Marathon (Or Learning To Write As Art)

“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?

Discipline, Dog, Family, Great Dane, Love, Recovery, Running, Training, Unconditional Love, Yoga

How My Dog Taught Me Yoga

Downward dog. Downward facing dog. Observing a 115 pound Great Dane do this truly makes one respect the art form. Large (but not too large) and graceful, this girl puts her big bucket head flat to the ground and gets the full stretch from her harlequin hued hamstrings. This is usually followed by a massive yawn and a groan that makes me laugh out loud. We’re talking about her groans, not mine. Mine aren’t that funny.