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Category Archives: Explorations
Remember to float occasionally…
Remember to float occasionally. Float between the stories that connect us. Like beads on a necklace, links on the chain, this paver to that, one foot catching up to the other. The stories. They breathe life into a life, any … Continue reading
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who is she
My friend Josh asked me how it’s going today, in such a way that he truly wanted to know. I shared that, I don’t know Celeste, my four-month-old daughter. I don’t know her and she doesn’t know me. And yet … Continue reading
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All that’s holding us together are stories. Stories and compassion.
This year – in a year of mass casualties – I’ve been reading everything I can get my hands on about death. The dying process, stories from hospice volunteers and the visions that many people have of ancestors calling them … Continue reading
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Inle Lake at dawn
I’ve lived a good life. A long life by some estimations, or in some century or another culture. 41 years. As I sit here in the land of maternity leave, I’ve had a lot of time to just be. That’s … Continue reading
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Echos of home
The cool Pacific fog rolled over the sandy dunes and tall oat grasses, the ice plants punctuating the hills with their fuchsia and golden blooms. We walked side by side, sharing snippets of our lives. From the verdant Midwest to … Continue reading
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Birthday flowers
Maybe it was my eighth birthday, perhaps seventh. My older brother and I were born on the same day in May, three years apart. Talk about precision. Always having to share a birthday party, a birthday cake, in particular, got … Continue reading
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Hope.
Hope. An anticipation. A state of being. A longing for. A thought. A wish that something occurs or a phase shifts or a person changes. Even if it seems utterly impossible. Especially if it seems utterly impossible. Hope. A feeling … Continue reading
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This isn’t about giving up, it’s about letting go
Sometimes, there seems to be an argument, perhaps simply an exchange, about who or what lets go. Who is the protagonist of the story, the narrator, the one in charge who is mapping her own path. Forging, digging, carving, sinking, … Continue reading
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Miss Whirly Pop
I’ve been around for generations, millennia really. As long as fire was a thing and corn was a thing and people were a thing and people needing to eat corn to live was a thing. Sure, those golden or maroon … Continue reading
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The heart prepares us for life.
“There are a hundred ways to kneel and kiss the ground” -Rumi I sit here, eyes softened looking at the neighbor’s large tree. Maybe an elm, all its delicate branches dangly and floating in the breeze. Today it started, one … Continue reading
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