Yesterday morning I had a hard time pulling myself out of bed. Harder than most Tuesday mornings. I felt heavy. My legs seemed to teeter a bit underneath me as I moved through my early Tuesday morning motions– trying to wake my sleeping beast. Tuesday and Thursday mornings are a unique experience for me. I …
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 …
what if instead of armoring up you allowed yourself to soften?
thanks for allowing the space between us to be constantly fluid.
the stories i tell myself– though elegantly crafted, are not true.
an instant connection easy and familiar grounded in a similar intelligence– and perfectly imperfect in its inception and duration. a snapshot of a moment shared and remembered added to the chronicle of experiences within the overarching production that is pickathon.
i get to take you everywhere to the farthest reaches of my mind into shadows no one else would dare to wander past my breaking point and far beyond the limits i keep insisting do not exist. i hear your voice on good days louder than my own– it encourages, buoys and transfixes me– …
the edges of myself 