cultivating the beautiful ordinary by sharing our tales and our tables
My words went live on Red Tent Living for the first time on my 40th birthday. Ten years and over 60 posts later, I now know that they were more than words. They’ve always been so much more than words. In the space so generously offered to me, I gave generously back. I let you…
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“I don’t think you’ve ever experienced a good ending,” my therapist said, as we once again discussed ending our work together. As usual, I had become weepy at the mere suggestion that it was time. A good ending? What was that? How was it even possible? He kindly assured me that we could explore my…
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I keep a small cylinder of colorful confetti within a hand’s reach of my desk for the moments that declare celebration. I borrowed this idea from one of my favorite authors who keeps a confetti popper in her purse for similar occasions. When I am on a Zoom call and I hear of a moment…
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As I snuggle into my favorite chair in our living room, a soft blanket wrapped around my shoulders, the flickering flames in the fireplace take the edge off the chill of the previous night’s unexpected spring snowstorm. The house is quiet–too quiet. This quiet allows the sadness inside me to announce its presence with more…
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I love a big entrance. Boisterous hellos, tight hugs, chatter on top of chatter. I’m great with an enthusiastic greeting. But I’ve also been quick to look for the back door. I haven’t always given quite as much drama to the goodbye as I do with the hello. In fact, I’ve been known to slip…
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Weeks before the collective pandemic upheaval in March 2020, I found myself stepping off the Seattle-to-Bainbridge Island ferry. I am carrying a backpack chock-full of books. Some of the books are mine; others are not. Books are friends, holding words I want to remember. Piles of them are stacked in both my home and therapy…
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Last week I was talking with our daughter, Katie, about my desires for Mother’s Day. I made a remark about planning to ask our son, Tim, if he could be here for at least part of the day as it was ‘the last Mother’s Day.’
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The air has a bit of a chill in it, the first leaves have started to change on our trees, sprinkling the yard with crimson, gold, and amber. Summer has past, and fall is upon us.
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