Wednesday, October 17, 2012

The value of people.

I've learned that if you can just appreciate people for whatever they offer you rather than expecting everyone to be everything - life becomes filled with a lot more gratitude and a lot less disappointment.

Every person has something to offer.

Monday, September 17, 2012

Tell each other the truth.

 got a rock between my heart and my mouth / I know how it got there but I can’t pull it 
out and the bones that once moved my fingers over keys / are protesting in a fist on my
 knees / Gotta find a way to unzip my skin cos this is a stranger’s I’m living in” – Miss Higgins, Set me on Fire.

I haven’t written in months…or if we want to be completely honest…years. My words have been trapped somewhere inside of myself. Sinking deep below my skin before they ever find their way out. I lost a sense of purpose for them. Couldn’t get beyond my head to write. I have quite literally felt like a stranger in my body and my mind. Trapped by something unreasonable. Something I don’t understand.

I expressed my disappointment in this to a friend…and in conversation a chain of understanding presented itself. 

I haven’t quite figured out how to get beyond it. But here I am taking a first step - a step bigger than I’ve made on my own. All because of a reflection of myself offered by a friend, a friend who took the time to speak to me candidly.

Long-standing friendships have something to offer far beyond moments spent together. They give us a window inside of ourselves… remind of us of who we are when we are having trouble standing up straight. They tell us the truth.

I challenge everyone to do that. Tell each other the truth. The good truth. The bad truth. The humbling truth. The sad truth. Don't be afraid to be emotional - it reaches people on a level so often missed in daily life. 

And, sometimes all it takes to start making changes is knowing that someone is paying attention – that someone sees you and that you matter.

Tuesday, June 26, 2012

Nature's Will

A small tornado of debris swelled around my feet. Even the leaves were tempting me to stumble. But I turned my back on the breeze and buckled hard at the knees. Self-grounded is better than drifting out of control.

Friday, June 22, 2012

To Jaiden. For the first time.


It could have been just yesterday they held you up for me to see
One giant breath and then a newborn scream
And I let your tiny hand wrap around my mine
For the first time.

So small and we shared you with all – morning, noon and night
Moms a-glow for their baby girl and all she offered to the world
Each sound and move something huge to celebrate
For the first time.

Lying awake to gaze at you sleeping - hours into the night
Waiting for the moment your eyes would open or hunger would strike
Happy to be missing out on sleep
For the first time.

So eager to offer you solid food
Lift the spoon and watch your eyes go bright
Cereal soupy and sweet potato from a jar
For the first time.

And the day you were able to tip the cup back on your lip
Sipping water like we did
And we all laughed at just how bright you really were
For the first time.

The strong, independent lift of your head
Mickey Mouse Playhouse, giggles and gasps
The time your baby hands and knees hit the ground, moving fast
For the first time.

Now you are making words and walking your own path
Nodding yes and saying no
Telling us just how things will go
For the first time

Happy First Birthday, Baby Girl!!

I wouldn’t trade all of these first times for anything in the world. Thanks to everyone who has been along for this wonderful ride. I’m the luckiest woman in the world. And all of these first times are like trophies reminding me why life is great.

Tuesday, May 29, 2012

Time travel at the gas pump

Sometimes the past blows in with the breeze. Just the other day while pumping gas I found myself sitting at a table in my safety town class. The air heavy with humidity and the waxy scent of crayon. The sky bright and the breeze heavy. My cotton dress just short of stopping my legs from sticking to the chair underneath me. Then, running outside. Remembering to the point of feeling the pride I had saddling up on the small tricycle I used to navigate the black pavement, around the cones. Carefree and safe and under the sun.

Oh, to feel that safe again.

Monday, May 21, 2012

Baby mine.

You slipped away sometime between a dream and a nightmare.
I opened my eyes to an unfamiliar hollow, rolled over and cradled the home we had made together.
And then it all felt different.
I couldn’t look people in the eye.
I couldn’t feel you inside.
Goodbye silently began before the first drop of loss.
And yet I still carried you with me and prayed you’d stay. But not this way.
Not without a heartbeat. Not without a chance.
And if I did something wrong, I’m sorry.
I loved you from a place deeper within me than where you began.
I imagined your sweet face, the soft of your feet, the warmth of your tiny breaths.
And I lost mine when you faded back inside.
You are the piece of me that died.
The heartache I cannot hide.
Baby mine.