cultivating the beautiful ordinary by sharing our tales and our tables
When I was a girl, my grandmother used to buy me the most beautiful books. I’d sit and study them. I’d weave myself into their magical illustrations and storylines—the heroes within, the longings of main characters, the mythical power of nature’s forces—and I’d get lost in the rhythm of beginning, middle, and end. I’d imagine…
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My eyes feel heavy. I have loads of to-dos in the waiting room of my brain, unread emails, toys all over, lots of people to call, and there is a sticky residue I noticed in the fridge earlier. I haven’t seen Theo eat a vegetable in a while; my small group is starting up this…
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As I navigate the deep end of the pool, each stroke propelling me forward, I can’t help but draw a parallel to life’s journey. It’s a constant balancing act of letting go, surrendering to the unknown depths, while also setting boundaries to protect my own well-being and navigate the currents with wisdom and resilience. Amidst…
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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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