I am here (I say, pointing) in the circle of my wholeness. Not done, but open. Not quite finished, but seeking to reach the authenticity of my deepest, truest, fullest self. It is a circling. It is a sweeping, swooshing circling. It is a meandering, a wandering, a wilding. It is indeed, a rebelling (no, no not regretting), but a leaning into the learning, into the understanding of being and of being human.
Saturday, October 23, 2021
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A Wise Friend
A wise friend is akin to a book of old wisdom. A book of bone and soul and skin. A book that breathes and speaks and eats. A book with a so...
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I want you to be free someone who is heard and seen a child who is free. I want you to feel to move through every emotion witnessing your...
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I am the introvert hostess hiding inside her bathroom. G uests arrive to my writings on the wall, to platters of awkward tension and to ...
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In my denim skirt, floral blouse and old olive-green flats, I sit beside Scott in a small glass bank office. We are applying for our first...