cultivating the beautiful ordinary by sharing our tales and our tables
I wrote for Red Tent Living for almost exactly eight years before ever meeting Tracy Johnson in person. We had, of course, communicated via email, but I did not have the opportunity to spend time with her in “real life” until I attended the Sacred Interruption retreat in Knoxville last October. I was deep in…
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It was one of those Saturday morning moments for which I long. Both of my girls were in their playroom, happily occupying themselves (without screens!). There were no sounds of whining, fighting, or Peppa Pig jumping in muddy puddles. It was blissfully quiet. And it was that exact quietness that allowed me to more quickly…
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My oldest daughter was not a cuddly child in her first four years of life. She wanted her space, and we learned to give it to her. At some point, however, she’s changed her mind on all things physical touch. These days, she cannot get close enough to me, her dad, or her sister. She…
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Much of my adult life has felt like a walking billboard for a “Never Say Never!” campaign. Whether it’s going back to school to get my Master’s degree, having two kids under two, living in the state of Ohio, or becoming a person who runs outdoors on a regular basis by choice, I’ve learned that…
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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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The estimated time of arrival on my GPS read 4:12 a.m. That meant my head could hit the pillow by 4:15 a.m., which would give me a solid 2 hours and 45 minutes of sleep before my kids were ready to start the day. Earlier that day, I decided to make the 5-hour drive to…
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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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On the wall in my yoga studio’s bathroom hangs a photo of Bob Dylan with his words: “All I can do is be me, whoever that is.” I smile every time I see it, feeling reaffirmed that after nearly four decades of life, I’m still figuring “me” out. It’s ironic that these words that resonate…
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I was in the kitchen while my two daughters—ages 2 and 4—sat in front of me eating breakfast. Always curious about what happens in their little minds, I stayed quiet to give space for them to share their thoughts, knowing something conversation-worthy would arise. My oldest soon spoke up. “Mom, do you love your face?”
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I, like many others, get by with a little help from my therapist. Each week, I find a quiet space to meet with her online, and I close the door. Sometimes it’s my car door as it sits in the driveway, sometimes it’s the door to my daughter’s bedroom while she’s at daycare. A quiet…
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