Sometime between mindlessly loading the dishwasher and wiping the crumb-covered countertops, I make my way back— to the hickory floor beneath tired feet, to the smell of sautéing garlic and onions, to the soothing sound of end-of-summer showers. Another season, another day, slowing slipping away. I close my eyes and listen to the song that…
If death is inevitable, if it is a sure thing that this face, these hands, this body that holds a lifetime of this living, will, someday, no longer be here, if you don’t get to take a single thing with you — then — why spend a moment more refusing, worrying about who might disapprove,…
This morning as my eyes blink open it occurs to me as if for the first time what you, miracle body, have been up to All night long, while I let go you pumped blood through veins to fingertips and toes grew cells and eyelashes and nails inhaled and exhaled countless times all this while…
I am making a home inside myself. A shelter of kindness where everything is forgiven, everything allowed—a quiet patch of sunlight to stretch out without hurry, where all that has been banished and buried is welcomed, spoken, listened to—released. A fiercely friendly place I can claim as my very own. I am throwing arms open…
Go gently today, don’t hurry or think about the next thing. Walk with the quiet trees, can you believe how brave they are—how kind? Model your life after theirs. Blow kisses at yourself in the mirror especially when you think you’ve messed up. Forgive yourself for not meeting your unreasonable expectations. You are human, not…