3.27.22 Perfection


There are a great deal of things worth keeping

even when they’re broken

In a bizarre twist of fate

Some things might even be better that way




Fractured hearts shine like fragmented mirrors, reflective of their inner depths

Bent perspectives allow malleable thoughts to grow, and hopefully, change

Discarded dreams scatter golden remnants,

glittering choices to either sweep up,

dwell in,

or press into

Perfect things can be lovely,

but brokenness is often beautiful

in a way perfection just can’t compete with

3.12.22 Invitation


Come gently darling

and let me fold you into safety

Piece by piece,

let’s take off all of your armor,

that which you’ve picked up and fortified yourself with …

every time you had to be strong for someone else

There may be a time for you to pick it up again

but for now

just lean in

and hold on

as you let go

3.7.22 Winks and Wishes


Sometimes, every inch of my five foot three and a half (that half is important to me) frame is tired. I am so tired that my feet tingle and my eyelashes feel heavy. Anyone else? Everyone else? I hope I’m not alone because if I am, I’m doing something wrong!

This weekend was of the Alexander sort, you know the charming children’s book, Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good Very Bad Day? Yep, that one. After a longer than long Friday with a double-morning drop off, run-to-the-store-before-work, work, run Creative Writing Club, come home, host a movie night late just to wake up early … I woke up sick. A double-whammy combination of sinuses and Celiac’s flare up, I felt headache, bellyache, top-to-toes ill, but my daughter had a dance competition. So, that was that.

After a few trips to the bathroom (or a few more than a few) we were off. The entire way there, I was either trying not to focus on the nausea or trying to focus on where the next quickest exit was for yet two more fabulous restroom trips. All the while, my sweet girl was a bundle of grace and nerves so I held her hand and tried to encourage her with a smile that required a lot more energy than it should have. My husband and I knew we were in for a long day. Her first dance was at 10:49 (yes, not 10:50 …10:49, you heard me right) and her last was after 3:00. Holding it together on rice crackers and a prayer, I’m sure you can imagine our surprise when we were told the awards ceremony would begin promptly at 8:55. I could have cried.

But instead, my husband and I walked. Then drove a half-hour away to try to get me something gluten free, only to see the line was out-the-door at Chipotle … a fundraiser was in full-swing. At this point, we laughed until my husband tried to tell me, “We still have four hours. Maybe you could drive me an hour home and then come back?” My look must’ve been response enough because he gave me a sheepish grin and tried for a half-hearted, “just kidding.”


On the up side, our daughter was the loveliest sight on the stage and we couldn’t be prouder. Thank God for ginger chews; I made it through the day and we got home by 11:30 to wake up and volunteer by 8:30 Sunday morning. Then, I had to work. Then, edit a piece. Followed by dinner, and making lunches, and laundry, and yoga with my daughter, and the list goes on and on.

The thing is … that’s just life. It’s a messy, exhausting array of commitments and even now, after working until two AM just to be prepped for the week ahead, I don’t regret it. I would go to the twelve hour show sick again, just to see her three minute routine. I would volunteer at church again just to witness the beauty of human connection. I would sort groups and lessons and pages and paragraphs until dawn so that my students get the education they deserve, and my readers get a good tale.

So my feet tingle and my typing is slowing to a crawl … so I’ve slow-blinked ten times as I’ve written this last paragraph. At least I’ve got a full-to-the-brim opportunity to do it better tomorrow. Hopefully with a few more winks and wishes in store.