cultivating the beautiful ordinary by sharing our tales and our tables
It was a profound moment for me. As I sat staring at my peanut butter-smudged computer screen, wincing from the glare to try to look her as directly in the eyes as possible, I wondered to myself: What little suns does my life orbit around? Spiritual direction is new for me. As I progress through…
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One of the first pictures I posted to Instagram was of a smashed banana with googly eyes. I believe the caption said, “Look what I found on my pillow. I squashed it. #evil #friends.” How absurd. That was pure, authentic, youthful Haley right there. I keep scrolling to find more pictures from my college years—pictures…
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I arrive with great hesitance. The unknown is scary and the pain of reopening partially-healed wounds has me on guard. I am warmly welcomed with hugs. The chairs are formed into a circle. I quietly choose a chair and have a seat in the circle of grief. I look around the circle at the women…
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Blue fades seamlessly into blue as water and sky meet. The sun sets over the Puget Sound, and my time here sets too. I sit in a candlelit room filled with buzzing conversations. The thick of happy hour surrounds the liminal space I hold. I have just completed two years of training in narrative focused…
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We all have reasons for moving. I move to keep things whole. –Mark Strand You should see my house right now. I’m writing this from my bed, which is now merely a mattress on the ground, and I’m surrounded by cardboard boxes and half-packed belongings. Fine white dust covers the hardwood floors along every baseboard,…
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I was born in the suburbs of Chicago, raised on the dynasty of the Chicago Bulls and the “curses” of the Chicago Cubs. I lived in the same town until I left for college at the age of 18. “Home” will always be that Chicagoland suburb, but it’s no longer the only place where I…
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