All posts filed under: Writing

More Life

The frost lays thickly on branch and windowpane where the sun’s rays cannot reach. It is winter but the days are lengthening by a minute with each rotation of the earth. New Year’s Day may land on January 1st, when we collectively turn the fresh pages of our recently shrink-wrapped calendars, but the new season began its slow unfolding on December 22nd after winter solstice. It went by largely unnoticed, as most of us were in a flurry of holiday preparations, but the earth had already begun it’s slow change without aplomb. Things remained mostly the same: it was still December, still winter, still dark before dinner preparations began. This morning, familiar clatter interrupted my dreams. Back to school, back to work. I pulled my arm, tingling still with sleep, and tossed it over the side of the bed, hoping to aid circulation and drifted back to sleep. As always, my corgi’s wet nose nudged my hand and pulled me to wakefulness. Familiar hunger gnawed and hollowed my insides, and I thought of the eggs …

What Clips Your Wings? {or, yelling at God}

What clips your wings? My youngest boy brought home an application to be a class representative in student body government, his first foray into leadership, politics, into submitting himself to the popular vote. The form says: List in this box text that describes why you should be considered for student leadership. His answers are adorable. But more than the cuteness of a nine-year-old stretching his wings in the confidence of his own flight is the profundity of his confidence. He is not tinged by doubt, he is untethered by past failure; his future is abounding in hope and choice and greatness. He lists his achievements  (in his best handwriting) and doesn’t see them as small, but sees them as toeholds and handholds to climbing higher. “I get to be line leader”; “I almost always turn in all my work on time”; “I am kind”. He is putting himself out there, testing the lift and strength of his confidence. The class votes next week on whom they’ll choose to represent them. And he may fail. A …

From Disneyland to Duck Dynasty: Our Obsession with “Real”

I sat in the hydraulic chair in the well-decorated salon, under the glare of halogen lights and surrounded by walls painted earthy shades of gray and brick red and dried-leaf brown. My roots glared ugly at me in the mirror, a bland mixture of mud puddle and pebble gray. The blonde that covered most of my head is more my “real” color; the non-color nearest my scalp was a hormone-delivered post-natal gift: after I had children, my hair became nondescript, colorless. But we have a remedy for that. So I was sitting in the chair, under the expert care of my niece, a lovely thing in her mid-twenties. I’ve known her in every hair color, since we first opened an at-home highlight kit and I pulled her strands through the holes in a plastic cap with a crochet hook. She’s currently a deep, chestnut brown and her hair’s cut in a bob. She looks every bit a dolly. We begin bringing my own hair back to its real color. And we talk about real. We …

In Which I am Lost and Found Again {rediscovering purpose}

I sat before the computer for long, silent minutes. Fingers hovered, stiff yet from the night’s sleep, but ready and waiting, waiting for a message. My mind, my heart: there lie the problems in the wordlessness of this morning. The busy, flurried constant movement of life makes me lack focus, holds my fingers still and my voice mute but my mind and heart and the person within me that seeks to be skips about in the constant movement trying to gain purchase. I am squinting in an attempt to focus but I lose it amidst the fray. I can’t even define what IT is this morning.

Little Words {And Thinking Big}

It was August 23, 1930 and my Aunt Lucille wrote in her journal this: “All the big words I know are little ones – Sky is a little word, but it is all infinity, All of height and depth and blue and air and sun and sea… If is a little word, But it is all might have been, might be, was and will be… All the big words I know are little ones.” P.K.L. Don’t we tend to get caught up in big things? Big drama, world politics, global finance. Big, newsy issues capture us on a rushing current of importance. We watch talk shows with experts, follow twitter explosions, read and re-post links on Facebook. We form opinions on issues larger than our sphere of influence.