cultivating the beautiful ordinary by sharing our tales and our tables
Sometimes I wish I had a magic forcefield around me that could protect me from the fiercest of strikes. When I think of a military strike, I think deliberate, planned, intentional attack…that is how I see abandonment. It is a military strike against my whole being that is planned and strategic so that it can…
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My memory holds pockets of a vibrant, life-giving little girl who could make the world smile. If I could describe her in words, I would chose provocative sounding words like full of color, vibrancy, and ecstasy. A child fully in her body, aware of her power, and lost in her dreams. This little girl I…
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A child’s mind is a mystery to me. It captures every experience and locks it in as the basis to build truth, to define normal, to create expectations. Is this still true when the normal is twisted with tainted experiences? This question spotlights my reality. I liken it to the time my husband went to…
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There are words deep within me that have refused to surface. They hide, playing, in a place far inside my being, and I like keeping them there. I don’t want to hear these words, in fact, I have spent a lifetime contributing to the silencing and burial of them so they would not reach my…
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