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 →
The other day, this lovely young woman came in to the bookstore and asked if we had any Christian books. Ahem. It was kind of awkward... because we have a spirituality section. But let's just stay it leans heavily toward Buddhism, general spiritual pursuits (mindfulness, crystals, auras), and witchcraft. We do have a few Christian... Continue Reading →
In the evolution of parenting, we've recently entered the tween zone. It's a strange land, filled with Caboodles, lip gloss, ill-applied blush, and an obsession with all things unicorn and glitter. It's a liminal stage. For us and our 9 (and a half) year old. There are things to be celebrated, for sure: a newfound... Continue Reading →
My current life is highly improbable. Maybe that's why I find it so beautiful. It's a bit of a mystery to me how I got here. But, yet, here I am. From the time I was 8 years old, adults constantly nudged and prodded me toward leadership roles. But I was having none of that.... Continue Reading →
I don't know everything. Hell, I don't know most things. But here's one thing I'm sure of: if you are a white person getting down to the hard, soul-searching work of becoming anti-racist, you're going to need a life raft. Because there's a tidal wave of rage, grief, regret, and full-blown horror headed your way.... Continue Reading →
Sometime around 6th grade or so, I got ahold of The Diary of Anne Frank. And suddenly, my world was awash in both the goodness and insight of a 13 year old European Jewish girl from forty years ago and the abject horror that human nature can unleash. Both. At the very same time. I,... Continue Reading →
Hey, white folks! I've got an idea: let's stop shouting "Racist!" at each other just to end a conversation. Let's honor where each person is in the long, hard, soulful world of becoming anti-racist, meet them where they are, and help them along. Because it sure isn't black folks' job to do that. That's all... Continue Reading →
Our first Valentine's Day together, Simon got me a flashlight. Oh, he got me some red roses, too. But the flashlight was the main present. He wanted me to be prepared, just in case. This is his way, laying a path and making way for my independence, nurturing my strength. But I didn't know that... Continue Reading →
