Yesterday at church, I was Mary. I stood and read those all familiar verses about Mary and for the first time, I realized the enormity of Mary’s need for her own Son. Like, crazy, right? That “this Child that [she] delivered would soon deliver [her]”. Later, I watched the Nativity movie, and Mary held herContinue reading “dear diary – hope. always. forever.”
Rain, by Hans Zimmer plays as I think. in the music, I hear small droplets, as a quiet wind moves in the background; light, and curiously kind. Can wind be kind? Yes, I think so. Because if it can be fierce and harsh, it can be kind too.
I had a headache. The snow was falling. Again. The battery on my phone was dead. I was exceedingly parched. It was Sunday and the week stretched on before me. I sat in the old white van; bouncing along with 500 tabs open in my mind. There was the phone to charge, the water to find, theContinue reading “05.05.2018”
Dear April, You were a very good month. After a slew of not-so-fantastic-could-have-been-better months, April, you were very good. Lots of growing, growing, growing, ever growing, learning, failing, growing….well, you get the picture. But also lots of laughter and joy, and joy and laughter and resting and deepening and smelling flowers and drinking coffee and ya know…all thatContinue reading “04.30.2018”
“Who among us has not dreamt, in moments of ambition, of the miracle of a poetic prose, musical without rhythm and rhyme, supple and staccato enough to adapt to the lyrical stirrings of the soul, the undulations of dreams, and sudden leaps of consciousness.” ― Charles Baudelaire To me, most poetry used to invoke the image ofContinue reading “04.19.2018”
It was finally one of those days where I got home early enough from work to lace on my running shoes and inhabit the fresh evening air before the sky turned to dusk and the cold threatened to freeze my toes. I would much rather have been barefoot, but…patience. Summer will come soon enough, IContinue reading “04.07.2018”
Resolutely, Fia spreads a thick dusting of flour over the table and watches as the white cloud settles. Next, Fia takes the soft, warm, plump dough out of the bowl and slaps it heartily on the table. The deep scent of garlic, basil and oregano wafts up to her nose. 4 beady eyes watch FiaContinue reading “03.24.2018”
There is a lot of dew on the grass in the summertime. We walk by it every morning, un-fazed and unimpressed. Its juuuust water. Normal water on normal grass on a normal morning in a normal world with a normal person looking very normally at it all. But wait.
“Love actively,” I remember her telling me, like 5 months ago.
So, Fia’s brainwaves are interestingly random sometimes. One day, she was doing a mundane task like flossing her teeth and a sudden thought popped into mind: What is the opposite of a bucket list? Is there such a thing, and if so, what is it called and what would mine be like?