Sometimes clarity has a companion. Sometimes clarity comes in the midst of a cloud, piercing through one minuscule facet of its heaviness and there it is—illuminating myriad colors. But, then it’s just all cloudy again. We’re encompassed, again. So we weep. So we soar. Out of tears, thoughts. —Leon Wieseltier Sometimes we’re immersed in waters, the waters that cleanse us. Beneath—sounds, sights, clarity is muted—a story half understood. This baptism,.. Read More
Dear Dying Heart: A Slight Figure of Speech
“They say you’ve gotta lose a couple fights to win It’s hard to tell that from where I’m sitting They say that this is where the fun begins I guess it’s time that I was quitting A slight figure of speech I cut my chest wide open They come and watch us bleed Is it art like I was hoping now?” —Avett Brothers, Slight Figure of Speech Dear fellow sojourners.. Read More
The Liminal Space of a Woman with Child
When you transition from knowing your own writing voice only within the confines of personal journal pages and letters to family and friends out into the public domain, you wonder what it will be like. I’m only a couple of years into this experiment and here’s what it is like for me: freedom.
I’d written an article or two over the years that reached beyond my personal sphere but nothing like this last year. It feels vulnerable too, but that feeling pales in comparison to the joy of finding my walking legs after the work of crawling. The sense of freedom only enlarges when…
The Truth About the Day
Yeah, it’s true. I laughed out my nose when the three year old lunged across the table to steal food from his older brother’s plate deft like a praying mantis after it’s cricket. Seriously—the way he moved was impressive and spontaneous and I could NOT help it. Yeah, it’s true, I sighed at first when: 8 year old: “mommy.” me: “just a minute, I’m in the middle of a.. Read More