cultivating the beautiful ordinary by sharing our tales and our tables
On a weathered log by the harbor, I sat with a grief I could not put into words. My life of late has held a tsunami of losses, yet it felt like I shouldn’t be sad in such a beautiful place. I now live in a town that, previously, I could only have dreamed of.…
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At family gatherings as a child, I did not lack for cousins to play with as five of us “baby boomer” cousins were born in the same year. My father used to tell the story of a family gathering where all of the cousins were present. One of my same-aged cousins was being a bully…
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*The following post is from a sexual abuse survivor and may contain elements that could feel triggering. It has been three years. My body feels heavy, my pulse throbs in my neck. The memory, so violent and traumatic. My mind has begun to recover but my body has been slower to follow. During an EMDR…
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“While Jesus was here on earth, he offered prayers and pleadings, with a loud cry and tears, to the one who could rescue him from death.” Hebrews 5:7 (NLT) Truth: I avoid the news these days. My desire for justice often leaves me with gut problems; stomach aches over the inaction of men, women, silence of…
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Panic attacks, high anxiety, and digestive issues were the symptoms that encamped my body anytime I went to church as I began to process part of the sexual harm that marked my young personhood. I told the story nearly eight years after my childhood pastor was arrested for exploiting children and women through the means…
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That little red house on the hill was the home of my babysitter and her family of many children. Adding two more little girls to the daily mix seemed the perfect solution to the need my mom had for someone to watch my sister and me. It appeared to be a place to play with…
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You call her a dirty slut You whisper “cheap whore” as she walks by Words echo in the long hallway of a high school Words echo in the tender spirit of a 16 year old girl
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On Fridays Asha is at home with me. We stay in pajamas and linger together as I drink several cups coffee. Asha and I play, navigating our steps through scattered crayons layered with paper, toys, and stickers. Asha’s young presence is remarkably jovial and peaceful. As we play, I find myself falling in love with…
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Tonight I watched the PBS documentary, Mr. Roger’s Won’t you be my neighbor? Seeing those familiar scenes brought up a swirl of feelings. I watched Mr. Rogers every day when I was a young girl growing up in Oregon. My world was in chaos, although no one at all knew. In the conservative tradition of…
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“According to the CDC 1 in 3 girls and 1 in 6 boys will experience sexual assault.” Senator Diane Feinstein spoke those words at the opening of the #KavanaughHearing before Dr. Christine Blasey Ford’s testimony. I was listening, along with my 12 year old, as we drove towards San Antonio for her orthodontic appointment. I…
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