I didn’t like group projects when I was in school. This is a surprise to exactly no one who knows me. I’m happy to be around a group of people. But working with people? Collaboratively? No, thank you. I can do this on my own. But owning a small business has disabused me of many... Continue Reading →
My birthday is coming up, which means I’m simply reeling with possibility. Not about the celebration. I used to care a lot what folks did to mark my birthday. Now I just care about cake of some sort. And my family being there, of course. With cake. (Is it even a birthday if there is... Continue Reading →
Mornings are a barrage of talking, negotiating, finding lost objects, and hurrying the sixth grader out the door. How getting her to the bus stop on time requires rushing in any way, I have yet to puzzle out. She gets up at 6:45am. The bus arrives at 8:45am. Should she be able to fashion her... Continue Reading →
Adulthood is one long voyage into uncertainty. When I was a kid, I assumed adults had their shit together. Behind those big, translucent pink framed glasses, the moms of all my friends seemed to have a tidy sum of to-do lists that culminated in a well-oiled family machine. Mine certainly did. My family was conservative... Continue Reading →
I am attached to the lie about why I didn't get my PhD. It's a pet lie. In my head it looks something like this: And it's more comfortable than the truth, which stings a little and is, well, embarrassing--as truths can sometimes be. The lie goes like this: I'd reached a point in my... Continue Reading →
Using a working definition of love that tells us it is the action we take on behalf of our own or another’s spiritual growth provides us with a beginning blueprint for working on the issue of self-love. –bell hooks, All About Love People talk a lot about self-love and self-care. From a practical standpoint, though,... Continue Reading →
I misunderstood adulthood. I thought it was a destination that, once reached, meant all my shit would be irrevocably together. But, seemingly, there’s no magical destination. And having one’s shit together is apparently not a linear process, not a level to be unlocked. Instead, it’s more cyclical, with some ebbs and flows. And seemingly random... Continue Reading →
I’ve been itching to write my own gospel. A little bastion of ideas and thoughts so deeply held that they’re woven into the fabric of my life. Kind of like The Gospel According to Shug Avery–something real and true. Something I’ve had to create and live into to dispel all the hurt and ache my... Continue Reading →
Sitting still is a struggle. I resist it mightily–if not in bodily motion, by sullying the stillness with a generous portion of guilt. For not getting more done. Not accomplishing. Even though wisdom is born of stillness. I fight a constant urge to get up, move, do. To produce. To have something to show. Something... Continue Reading →
Today, as I was stretching to reach the top of the shower rod, so I could thread plastic loops through the holes of both the shower curtain and the liner, which I couldn’t even see because I’m way too short, I thought… adulting is stupid. Half the time, I feel like I’m playing house, doing... Continue Reading →
