We’re cleaning out the garage and moving boxes up to the attic so I’ve been tasked with sorting through them. I get sidetracked with a box of photo albums from the old days when we actually got pictures developed and took the time to paste the best ones in books instead of just scrolling through Instagram. I sit for a long while thumbing through the pages, remembering. It’s difficult to live in the present. I’m often nostalgic for the past. I’ll think back to the times when life seemed more …
dreams
My Writing Life, Silence, and the Burden of Nouns
I move at a pace much too slow to be called successful. Or maybe even ambitious. I guess I look around and wonder what all that means anyhow. It’s no secret I hold no deep love for blogging as a medium other than the community that has become an anchor for me, tethering me to friendships spanning the globe. I’ll admit, that part is tremendous. I have the most amazing readers on the internet. No contest. I’ve carved out a place here in the past 4 years and I’m forever grateful but some days I …
When Your Dreams Aren’t What You Imagined
This is what I know of wild obedience. I never dreamed of picket fences and dinners around the table with my darling offspring making conversation about the high and low point of our days. I never wished for a husband and a mortgage and matching throw pillows for our tastefully decorated living room. I never dreamed of roots and home and family. I didn’t rock baby dolls and pretend I was their mama. My dandelion dreams sailed on wild winds with my hopes of escaping into the open. We never …
