Life

  • The Cookie

    We spend a great deal of our lives being afraid of the cookie, don’t we? Too much sugar, too much fat, too much cookie induced shame (note to self, and the world: shame causes more damage than the cookie.) If… Continue reading

  • The Consciousness of Plants

    The garden is abundant with Calla Lillies. There is something about them that I know, something that speaks to me through the softness and sway of their leaves and sweeping, cupped petal. Theirs is an energy much like the soft… Continue reading

  • All My Softness

    I am home when the beautiful song of my heart is at peace. There is nothing loud, here, nothing beyond the birds and the rippling pools of shadow on brick. I am just me, in all of my softness. Me,… Continue reading

  • Shamed

    Mistakes are our greatest gifts, and yet, we are buried in shame. Do not make a mistake. Do not ever be bad. We are shamed. We are shamed. We are human. Not one of us is perfect, not one. I… Continue reading

  • Heaven On Earth

    My soul held the music, and we were one. There is no other way to describe it but that heaven exists on earth, and for several moments, I was there. There is a beautiful tender song from Aladdin, where Aladdin… Continue reading

  • She Drifts, Again

    It really did seem like the perfect plan. And so I did it. I set up an official page on instagram to act as the much longed for social media home of ‘The Little Blog of Everything’ and all things… Continue reading

  • Alone

    It is raining, and I am alone. And there is sorrow in these parts, and knowing that life is terrible and beautiful, all at the same time. I am alive with all of that. I am alive with the sorrow… Continue reading

  • The Quiet

    The quiet has come upon me, and so I have to write. It’s a strange quiet, a wonderful one, however mixed with a soft melancholy. It’s been with me, on and off, for as long as I can remember, and… Continue reading

  • Self Forgiveness

    They abused their horses; yelled at them, hit them, spat daggers of anger at them, daily. I was the thirteen year old victim of school bullying at the time, so I smiled when the abusers smiled and I laughed when… Continue reading

  • The Art of Living Carefully and Beautifully

    I made the beds as if it might be the last time. I didn’t think, ‘Oh. Gosh. You know, I better take more care in making these beds, I might be gone by tomorrow morning.’ It wasn’t like that. I… Continue reading