cultivating the beautiful ordinary by sharing our tales and our tables
My father and I argue about trees. I once had a beautiful red maple in my front yard. My husband and I envisioned it natural and towering, shading our bedroom from the fierce summer sun. When it was planted my oldest son hid secret notes in the hole to be buried among the roots. It…
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“You’re too young to be married,” said Lottie to my husband after we returned from our honeymoon. Lottie, one of our clinical supervisors in our Master of Counseling program was speaking of his developmental age, not his biological age. “You are still a little boy looking for a mom,” she said.
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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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For the month of May the women of Red Tent Living are considering the theme, “The Wild Ones”. Join us by reading, and by gathering some women in your circle to share stories prompted by the thought of wildness.
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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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The woman said it was from the early 20th century—her mother’s from Illinois. It was a sturdy and solid piece of furniture, but more importantly, it was the exact size and shape of what I had been looking for. I would strip the varnish, get down to the wood grain, and stain it back to…
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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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