cultivating the beautiful ordinary by sharing our tales and our tables
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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“Hip, hip, hooray, Mommy saves the day!” My four-year-old daughter runs through the living room, quite literally singing my praises. I laugh as she jumps up and down, her socks pulled up high on her ankles. I had helped put those socks on, a task that, on this particular morning, had been frustrating my incredibly…
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It’s early. The morning light still feels cold with sharp lines cutting between sun and shadow. I open the blinds and catch the sunrise climbing over the power lines and trees. With its light, I breathe in a sense of possibility as I turn to the kitchen to pour myself a cup of coffee. And then…
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These past 18 months have been hard. Hard on a personal level, hard on a professional level, and hard on a collective level. The pandemic has disconnected so many of us from the embodied wisdom of community, friendships, and relationships. We have needed to be physically removed for safety, but also we have been separated…
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I had been driving around the neighborhood, circling the same streets for almost thirty minutes, until I reached a point of no longer being able to bear the weight of what I was trying to escape. My friend Cassandra was on the phone with me, listening as I talked with panic in my voice and…
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