cultivating the beautiful ordinary by sharing our tales and our tables
There is a black-and-white photo that sits in my office. The photo is of a favorite four-year-old. In it, she is outside. Even in black and white, I know the sky in the photo is brilliant blue. She is looking straight into the camera lens. Her lovely little face fills the frame, blonde strands of…
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In honor of the tenth anniversary of Red Tent Living, we are featuring a monthly legacy post written by one of our regular contributors from the past decade. Robyn Whitaker began writing regularly for Red Tent Living in 2014, and this post originally appeared in September 2014. My husband walked along the rocky shore line with…
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It is that stage in life where the day feels so full that there is barely room to breathe. With working full time, my day is brimming with stories, complaints, and check lists. My time at home is marked by conversations with my husband, bedtimes, and dishes. It is sweet to stop and breathe in cuddles with our…
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Our dear sailing friend Len died several weeks ago. He was sixty years young. At his memorial service, my husband said Len was the most beautifully complex contradiction of a human he had ever known. More insecure, more bold, more obstinate, more open, more brilliant, more foolish, more connected to death, and more alive to the resurrection…
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I am a rule follower. I see others, light hearted and fancy free, seemingly moving about as wispy air, and I envy them. Deeply. Because if you cut others in line, I’m there to remind you of the people behind you. If you bypass the process, I’m going to side-eye you from across the room.…
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Our wedding anniversary came and went. Although my husband and I love each other very much, I felt empty, cold, and distant. We are attempting to conquer the dark places in our story, rewrite the narrative, and break out of past bondage; however, on our anniversary, I longed to barricade myself away from feeling or thinking.…
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I was crawling into bed late one night when my phone lit up. I knew better than to stick my face in front of the blue light as I was preparing to fall asleep but, as usual, my curiosity got the best of me. To my surprise, it was a message from. . .my car.…
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I did it. My head spun in a disoriented fog. My limbs trembled with weakness. I felt sick to my stomach and my heart felt as though a boulder was sitting upon it. Everything within me screamed at the top of my I-can-barely-breathe lungs and I wondered if maybe curling up and actually dying would…
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I scuttled into the chilly room just in time to begin. Dropping my bulky coat and purse on the wooden bench, I grabbed my water bottle as I approached the group of strangers. I was a substitute for the day, eager to perform well and be competitive. “Thanks for coming!” one woman chimed as she…
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In honor of the tenth anniversary of Red Tent Living, we are featuring a monthly legacy post written by one of our regular contributors from the past decade. Dr. Natasha Stevens was one of the first women of color to say to yes to writing for us. She was a life-giving source of wisdom, encouragement,…
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