cultivating the beautiful ordinary by sharing our tales and our tables
I once knew a girl who was free. She wasn’t weighed down by worry or shame, and she got lost in adventures led by her fearless feet. Occasional scrapes and snags were part of the passion. Mending her wings seemed to require just a little rest, and then she’d fly off again. I long for…
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Hushed words seize power, Veiled whispers shatter safety, The desire to wilt. Yet, strength blooms in twilight’s veil, Anchored in embracing Light. Heather Medley is a woman who is learning to be present and kind to herself and to the people she loves. She is drawn to engage her world with hope of restoration and…
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More grey splashes against dark curls. Cheeks sag and skin spots darken. Aging creeps in with Crow’s feet around my eyes.
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She’s giggling, running, faster and faster, So fast that chubby legs cannot keep up with internal thrill But she tries valiantly…and goes down. I’m watching, delighting in her delight Yet simultaneously cognizant of the great risk of physical abandon and asphalt to her toddler body. Gravity–real life–fulfills what I had hoped against. Bright pink shorts…
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I was stepping up on a bench while holding a very large blue and white bowl. It “lives” on top of a corner cupboard in the spring until Thanksgiving. As I stepped up on the stool, I found myself unable to get my other leg on the stool while holding this heavy bowl. “That’s odd,”…
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I lay on the floor in Savasana; my body and mind are here.
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