I’ve spent years dancing around my writing practice. I’ve moved in fits and spurts through months of writing and months of silence. I’ve paid tribute sporadically to the scurrying stories in my head, and done my best to be nice to myself when I’ve kept those stories caged. I have made declaratives in hopes of …
I’ve successfully navigated the first third of my t.v.-free journey. I gave myself a few days without the pressure of writing which felt appropriate and good. Today is my day off and I began it as I do each week by taking a class at my studio taught by a dear colleague and friend. Afterwards …
It’s been three days now that I’ve gone without my drug of choice. Yesterday evening was challenging. I came home from work exhausted and had the house to myself. My pattern in this instance is to use this time for a guilty pleasure, namely watching a show that I watch by myself. The truest of …
Among the many realizations I’ve had about myself of late are these two things: 1.) Despite my belief that I am an incredibly open person, I have some pretty massive, fortified walls up around me. And 2.) I have a really hard time trusting women. These two realizations both hit me like a ton of …
There are so many pieces of my complex puzzle that are coming together at the moment. So many parts of my multi-faceted transformation process are bubbling up to the surface and begging for acknowledgement. I find it hard to know where this story begins. For years I have danced around the same places– intellectually understanding …
For several years now– too many to count, although it wouldn’t be hard to do, I’ve been silently beating up on myself for not writing. I’ve moved forward in fits and spurts, but they have mostly gone unacknowledged by myself– and somehow I have managed to continue to give myself the consistent message: YOU ARE …
unfolding into our shared space– envisioning with fluidity…
I’m sorting through a lot of late. (When am I not?) But by far the most potent thing seems to be acknowledging and letting go of the stories I tell myself. (And I tell myself a lot of stories.) Many of them are based in truth, or partial truth– and have some vague notion of …
my brain has settled down now– reconfigured– assimilated the new information. i’m coming back online– and the good news is: i’m bigger and better than ever. the new programming seems to be free of glitches– and i’m feeling more at ease than ever before. My mind is lucid– my perspective vast. And temperance is the card of …
I’ve closed my heart before locked it tightly– buried the key beneath layers of shoulds and coulds and woulds I’ve watched myself walk away treading carefully, moving backwards longing for an explanation some semblance of the truth I’ve understood the sting of rejection– internalized its pointy edges, embracing their lessons along with the …
the edges of myself 