THE UNIVERSAL SPIRIT OF “WE”

Shade sweeps over my toes and hair. My hips sway, as I talk low, threading words into sentences, traversing the airwaves to another. Her voice, small and intelligent, vast in her breath of language, is articulate and a joy.

WHEREVER, WHENEVER

She is round and fluid in a long floral skirt and a salmon-colored short-sleeve shirt. She drinks coffee, her gaze flits over the room.

IS LOVE MORE PAINFUL THAN HATE?

Listening to a song, something about love being more painful than hate. I wondered if that was true? Is that my experience with love? Is love more painful than hate? I guess it depends on what you consider painful.

GRIEF ROSE UP

I could say that it was easy, sitting there with her, watching her die, but it wasn’t. There was nothing easy about it, nor awful for that matter. It was what it was. I was asked the other day how I was doing with her death, and, at the time, I said I was fine….

NO LONGER THERE TO BE SEEN

I have a beautiful bookshelf, tucked into the wall of our living room, that contains a plethora of books. I have an old rocker next to the bookshelf and a decent lamp that gives adequate light for reading. Sometimes, when people step into our home, they can’t see me sitting there, almost like I’m invisible….

NO GOING BACK

She wanted to say something, the truth preferably, but all her words stuck in her mouth, hung up on her tongue, forever secured and tethered to going nowhere. She watched them fumble with their own words, trying to console and support without really talking about what was happening. She didn’t want to talk about it…

MORE POLITICAL THAN I THINK

I’m not a political person per se, though that doesn’t mean I don’t have opinions, or that I don’t read the news and am not informed. I’m just not into discussing my thoughts with everyone I cross paths with. Actually, I really don’t like talking politics with anyone. I value my friendships and connections more…

CHERISHED GIFT

I hear my oldest son playing piano, a new song he’s learned that he renders with little effort. His fingers grace the piano keys as if he’s played before, but he hasn’t. I’m amazed at his talent and intuitiveness. My other son sleeps, having turned in at 8:30. Turning in early makes sense, since he…

TIME TOGETHER

I sat with a friend a few days ago, me drinking an Americano and her a chai, and discussed our lives and perceptions. We’ve changed over the years, a little wiser, possibly a little smarter, but definitely happier. We touched on spirituality and what that means, our families and loved ones. As we dug further…

SURRENDER

Sometimes I struggle with my invisibility cloak. I lay it over my shoulders and submerge under its supposed warmth and protection. I soon languish there, hidden and alone. My depiction sounds dramatic and seedy, like an old bar that’s never seen a bucket of sudsy water and a mop, but my description is more of…

DENIAL ANYONE?

I’ve found for myself that denial comes in two forms: denial of what is and denial of what could be. Both forms are exercised simultaneously. Denying what is, is like hiding behind a barbed-wire cloak, stalled out, forever languishing in my suffering and bafflement at why things can’t be different. When I do this stalling…

TO LIVE AND LOVE

Rain misted my face and hair as I pulled stubborn grass and dandelions from my strawberry beds. The soil was black like the dead of night and the worms were fat and wiggly.  I wanted to remove my yellow-colored gloves and sink my fingers into the dirt, but I knew my skin wouldn’t brace the…