cultivating the beautiful ordinary by sharing our tales and our tables
I’m a Boomer. In my childhood home, our telephone hung on the kitchen wall, and every time it rang, shouts of “I’ve got it!” resounded throughout the house as my brothers and I raced from every direction to get there first. Competition often provided the tension that held us close to one another: who got…
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Wild woman dances in the trees, Her feet caked with mud. Hair in knots, She twirls and yells The songs of her ancient soul.
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The hours are ticking down on the year and snow is blanketing the roads, sticking in clumps on branches and bistro lights. The inside thermometer reads a number as ridiculously high as the outside number is low, and I am still chilled to the bone. My husband and I are reviewing the year and finishing…
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As she spoke of wedding plans, her eyebrows drew together, lines becoming visible on her young face. I watched the weight of exhaustion sweep over her, pulling her shoulders forward. She sighed. It is clear she is in love with her partner. He is absolutely smitten and she is equally adoring of him. I had…
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Every Body – Any Body All are welcome – HERE! In this moment, there is peace. You are free to lay your burden down. What is the name of the weight you carry so patiently on those strong and weary shoulders? What are the accusations, those judgments, shouting and whispering to you?
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Who is the woman in black? Is she you? Is she me? Is she a woman with stunning beauty, wearing a little black dress? Is she a woman hiding her body, hoping to distract you with a slimming dark color? Is she a woman in mourning, grieving a loss so deep? Or is she a…
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What felt like the bitter end was really the sweet beginning. The sweet beginning to a new life. The bitter end to oppression. The bitter end to patterned, repeated, intentional, and willful systematic oppression. The sweet beginning to freedom from suppression and systemic fear.
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Sing it Kierra! “I don’t know if you have noticed, I’m doing me and I love it. I just ran through the fire. Please don’t judge me.” Piping in the background is my new theme song. The lyrics wrap around me like a veil.
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It was a Saturday like any other in San Antonio, Texas — a beautiful, blustery October morning in 2007, the perfect day for our family outing at the zoo — until I discovered a secret so painful, I nearly collapsed. D-Day, I called it. Discovery Day. The day I discovered my husband was leading a…
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She peers over the edge of her handlebars, wondering at the hill ahead. Can she go down it with eyes closed? Can she hold her breath long enough to make it to the bottom? Wind in her hair as she unstraps the helmet, dangling it below the bars, she grips the rubber under her little…
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