I gravitate toward believing that at the core of our experience as humans in this beautiful and chaotic world there’s something universal. It’s less lonely that way, believing that there’s something that binds us together, a landmark that we all would recognize if we were ever privy to someone else’s interior landscape. That flash of... Continue Reading →
Maybe Knowing Thyself Isn’t All That Easy
Years ago, back in Florida, I spent hours sitting in community centers and church fellowship halls, drinking really bad coffee, and learning things that would keep me sober and sane. One of those ideas that I loop back to the most is that our self perception is slow to change. In fact, we're often the... Continue Reading →
Tequila Never Made Me Feel Like This
Every morning of my late twenties dawned with sickening dread. Every morning. I’d wake up and immediately begin the slow slide into the murky depths of shame. And fear. And regret. Anxiety gripped me like a vise, making it hard to breathe. I hated myself, pitied myself, held dear a storied mythology of myself. What... Continue Reading →
One of the greatest joys of being sober is doing shit you never even dreamed of... I didn't have such a great imagination when I was drinking. Sure, I could sit on a barstool & tell you I was going to run a marathon the year I turned 30 (even though I'd never run more... Continue Reading →
Her Timing is Always a Mystery
Parenting is largely intuitive. Right? Or am I doing it wrong? Because this really feels, for the most part, like a fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants endeavor. It's not so much the "where do babies come from?" conversations... those big ones are expected. You kind of get to plan for those. And, honestly, for us that one was easy...... Continue Reading →
No Idea Why I’m in a Picture with a Donkey (but I can guarantee I was drunk)
Getting sober is HARD. But life on this side of being a drunk is pretty damn miraculous.
Know what grace looks like for me? It looks like reckoning with a 1000 piece puzzle. It looks like family. It looks like gratitude.
Whose Script Is This?
When I walked up into Alcoholics Anonymous in my cowboy boots, feeling mighty superior, I had my script firmly in hand. I was a smart, sensitive, tragic victim. The world simply couldn't understand someone as deeply empathic and intuitive as I was. So, I drank to shield myself from the tragedy of the every day as it unfolded around me.
The Riddle of Motherhood
Mothering is sacred work. I pour every ounce of goodness & light I have into this child. But what about the broken parts of me that need mothering, too?
3 Things That Were
A gritty, honest exploration of change, loss, and joy as it's unfolded in my life.