I think my memoir would be called The Art of Being Dateless: One Wedding At A Time
The groove is so mysterious. We’re born with it and we lose it and the world seems to split apart before our eyes into stupid and cool. When we get it back, the world unifies around us, and both stupid and cool fall away. I am grateful to those who are keepers of the groove. The babies and the grandmas who hang on to it and help us remember when we forget that any kind of dancing is better...
A tree I’ll grow to let you know my love is older...
The top 3 questions I need to ask myself on a daily workday basis: What font, size, color, design, layout, image works in this piece? How can we make an impact on the target market? Does this create/reinforce/promote our community? Maybe our career choices could be evaluated by taking a look at the questions we’re responsible for answering versus the questions we want to be asking, and...
Sidenote: there seems to be a direct correlation between the number of posts and the amount of coffee consumed.
The Blue Dress
I don’t recall pain, or joy, only the blue dress I wore, and the door open to the sea, and the liquid sun across the floor beside the bed, and our crooning sense of having climbed Everest, undaunted, undeceived. I didn’t know who I was or who you were, or even what we hoped for, in that slow, rushed, soft, harsh, pretend, real, world. Even now, I don’t know how to devour love...
adulting: “With a few notable exceptions, we shouldn’t spend our early 20s exclusively writing about ourselves. The world is big and interesting; take your considerable talent and go find beautiful things to write about.” — Open letters to the girls of Girls, on how to be more grown-up
For Berry and the others to be rescued, in other words, two things had to happen: she had to never forget who she was, and that who she was mattered; and Ramsey needed to not care who she might be at all—to think that all that mattered was that a woman was trapped behind a door that wouldn’t open, and to walk onto the porch. -How Three Kidnapped Women Escaped in Cleveland : The New...
A Poet Reflects: geopsych: “There is a tendency to... →
But, there is no restraint in the month of May, no tenuous half-ways or kind-ofs. Every inch of the cherry trees is impossibly pink. The blossoms quiver with their unbearable lightness. After months of cold, the doors fly open again and a hive’s worth of bees begin buzzing. Ask them how much to give of your heart! They’ll answer the way that you’re fearing. -Equals
almost quittin time. the weekend awaits.
Well, let it pass, he thought; April is over, April is over. There are all kinds...– F. Scott Fitzgerald, Magnetism (via theotherway)
Joel Salatin answers the question, "What Can I... →
wildcritterfarms: My favorite quote of this article is, “We must stop this incessant victimhood mentality. Somebody else will not fix things. Somebody else will not make me healthy; somebody else will not make me happy. These things are my responsibility.”
Our chief want in life is somebody who shall make us do what we can.– Ralph Waldo Emerson (thanks A.Word.A.Day)
Wake now, discover
Wake up to find out that you are the eyes of the world, The heart has it’s beaches, it’s homeland and thoughts of it’s own. Wake now, discover that you are the song that the mornin brings, But the heart has it’s seasons, it’s evenins and songs of it’s own.
In the evening, we sat on our guesthouse roof and I thought, how is it we got so lucky and so unlucky at the same time to have so many choices, to have so much, to be so far away from our origins? I fell in love extra-strong that night, and every day a little more after that, with gratitude for what there is left to take home with you in this world and to what there is to give as well. -...
Peace for witness to the ugly, the evil and the darkness. Peace for the choice to be love over the burden to be hate. Peace for our bruised but bandaged and beating hearts, our troubled but forgiving minds, and our clenched but offering hands.
Message in the Stars
We all want to be certain, we all want proof, but the kind of proof we tend to want-scientifically or philosophically demonstrable proof that would silence all doubts once and for all-would not in the long run, I think, answer the fearful depths of our need at all. For what we need to know, of course, is not just that God exists, not just that beyond the steely brightness of the stars there is a...
She didn’t know what would come next and how it all would unfold, but that new...– ~How to Make a Home (Her blog posts are often heavy, sometimes even too much so for me, but some mornings I do open them, and on this gray rainy one, I’m glad I did. Though much of this isn’t currently relevant, it’s still lovely all the same.)
Where Heaven and Earth Come Closer →
TRAVEL, like life, is best understood backward but must be experienced forward, to paraphrase Kierkegaard. After decades of wandering, only now does a pattern emerge. I’m drawn to places that beguile and inspire, sedate and stir, places where, for a few blissful moments I loosen my death grip on life, and can breathe again. It turns out these destinations have a name: thin places. Who knew...
Today we live in a money economy, where we don’t really depend on the gifts of anybody, but we buy everything. Therefore we don’t really need anybody, because whoever grew my food or made my clothes or built my house, well, if they died or if I alienate them, if they don’t like me, that’s okay. I can just pay somebody else to do it. And it’s really hard to create community if the underlying...
a quick list of things to remember at 27:
-sustainable, organic farms dedicated to feeding the underserved of va (lose & find oneself by digging in the dirt.) -learning to garden, slowly, without a patch of land of my own - the importance of cultivating skills for a distant future -succulents in white pots (you make me happy, so I will own a pair of you soon.) -the people of rva, city & country side -spring, and the way the breeze...
Hearts and thoughts They fade Fade away