cultivating the beautiful ordinary by sharing our tales and our tables
We sit quietly in the near-dark room. Wood spindles hug hips and back, bare feet touch soft fawn-colored carpet, worn wooden armrests cradle elbows and arms filled with the weight and warmth of her. Feet push gently against the soft carpet, silence broken by the creaking voice of the old rocking chair. Voice speaking from…
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“He is gone.” My sister’s text startles me, and I sit up in bed. At first, I am confused and think she means her son is at school so that we can talk. I call her, and I know she is not okay from her voice. I realize she meant her son is missing. My…
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It had been a long day, full of experiences that further heightened my nervous system’s stress response. A client in crisis requiring additional resources, a full day of travel across three time zones on crowded, loud airplanes, and a flurry of insistent texts and calls that required more of me, despite my careful plan to…
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The spring before I found out I was pregnant with my first child I was at a craft fair with my best friends. I came across a booth that was selling baby girls clothing. There was this lace dress. It was frilly and girly and perfect. I bought it. I wasn’t pregnant yet. We weren’t…
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I was in the kitchen while my two daughters—ages 2 and 4—sat in front of me eating breakfast. Always curious about what happens in their little minds, I stayed quiet to give space for them to share their thoughts, knowing something conversation-worthy would arise. My oldest soon spoke up. “Mom, do you love your face?”
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I see you hovering at the base of the big slide, ready to catch your little daredevil as he proudly descends the last of the challenges this big kid playground has presented. And I am aware of your young mama heart, a little sad that he’s already conquering these obstacles.
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“Yes, Mrs. Bauman. Your husband called earlier and got you in with his appointment. We will see you in an hour.” My hand raises to my left cheek to comfort the ache as I smile, surprised I am not surprised by my husband’s provision for my tooth pain. Lately, I have been so frustrated with…
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November is here, and we have upon us another year, another holiday season. Coming into this season, my heart is tender and yet free and filled with love. Much has changed from the first year I created a list, yet there is a comforting familiarity to the remembering that this holiday provokes within me. Remember.…
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Passion and Joy. Both are tricky words for me. I’m perhaps beginning to turn the corner on joy. I grew up in a family that claimed to be joyful but hid secrets of sexual trauma, addiction, and abuse. We were a happy, faith-filled family—or so I was told. There were good times, but they were…
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Forever love is a steady kind of change. That’s what I think as I peer over top of the forest in our backyard and see the sun rising in precisely the same way as a year ago—bright and joyous. Already, the leaves are bright shades of orange, cardinal, maroon, and goldenrod. With a series of…
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