Yesterday, I walk into the woods and into autumn’s first blush: red dogwoods and the crackle of dry leaves underfoot. And I find myself breathing a deep sigh that feels — strangely — like relief. Autumn is usually a hard season for me, in spite of the goodness of hot cider and apple-picking, boots and flannel […]
Category: Confessional
When the Past is a Pool of Water by the River’s Edge
I scramble down the trail to the ravine, feet sliding on loose rocks, camera balanced on one hip. When I catch my breath, I look up to see what I’ve come for: the river, twisting green in the sun. This is the place I come to when I need to think about the Past — need the sensation […]
on shadow & light, sunshine & silhouettes … & seeing my own magic
This evening.
I am walking the dog at sunset, stopped at a street corner, waiting for traffic to pass. I am lost in thought.
Suddenly a car flashes by, and for the briefest moment I glimpse …
The Wandering Soul, on Open Seas …
In the Christian high school I attended, once upon a time, there was a lot of talk about where we’d build our house. The wise man, Jesus says in the Gospel of Matthew, built his house on the rock, but the fool built his house on the sand, so that when the rains came and the waters […]
Secrets, Self-Portraits & the Subconscious … & also, a Silver Lining
I am a keeper of secrets — especially from myself. * A long time ago, I realized I was one of those souls who felt everything too deeply — Who wept inconsolably when I saw a little bird crushed by a car tire. Who agonized over the troubles of friends and characters in books. And so, over the […]
On Quiet Grief, & Quiet Goodness …
Can I tell you a secret? For a little over a week now, I’ve been quietly carrying a private hurt — one I caused myself. And I won’t explain any more on that subject, except to say that for days now the hurt has been dogging me like a shadow, the way deep hurts often do. […]
What an Insomniac Doesn’t Tell You…
I like the world best by morning light… The way it pushes into the room through every opening. The way it fills up every space with an invitation to begin, now, while the canvas is blank and the page uncluttered. I am an insomniac. I have been for all my life, starting from the moment […]
An Honest Prayer …
Oh Lord, teach me to see this town with loving eyes … when the snow lies clean on every limb, and when it clogs the sidewalk, soot-scuffed black. when I am surrounded by ones I love, and when I am trudging the white trail alone. when I am surrounded and still alone — give me love, then most […]
The Way of Escape
You find yourself in a windowless room — the walls crumbling plaster, gray. (I know this because I am there too). You don’t know how long you’ve been there, but you know it’s been a long time, because there’s a hunger in the back of your eyes: for color, light — carmine, sun-yellow, cobalt. Your body is stiff, hunched, the bones nearly bent. The ceiling is […]
Because sometimes the person who needs your compassion the most … is you.
I’m posting today as part of 1000 Voices for Compassion — a simple call for one thousand individuals to interpret and write about the need for human compassion, each in their own way. Me? I’m here to suggest something that at first sounds counterintuitive: if we’re going to practice compassion for others, sometimes we first need […]