• blog,  short story

    Short Story: If God Were a Woman

    She wept, and the stars were born one by one. She stretched out her hand and the rocks broke against one another and burst forth into planets, comets, rocks and dust. Stardust. She rubbed the celestial powder between her fingers. Again, The Lady cried because she was alone. Her inner essence sighed in a desperate overwhelm as she longed for companionship. She longed to be loved. She caught a rock in her right hand and breathed the very breath of life. Plants and grass sprung up. She spoke, and water gushed from her mouth creating the lakes and the rivers, the streams and seas. She screamed a great scream and…

  • blog,  parenting

    An Untamed Spirit and a Work Horse

    My daughter takes everything we say as a suggestion. My son takes everything we say as law. You’d think we’d prefer one form of behavior over another, but we don’t. Both are equally out of balance, as it must be with children. Our daughter must learn that her father and I have lived longer, and understand things she doesn’t. She has to learn how to respect our wisdom as her guides in this life. We must likewise endeavor to be worthy of that respect. My son must realize that his parents don’t know everything. We will him to test boundaries and explore, not to be so cautious and in order.…

  • blog,  mental health,  trauma

    I’m Okay

    “I’m okay I’m okay I’m okay.” The water in the shower is hot. The steam penetrating. I heave a sob. I rock back and forth. “I’m okay I’m okay I’m okay.” There’s a knock on the door. “You okay?” “I’m okay!” I respond. I hold myself. “I’m okay I’m okay I’m okay.” “You don’t sound okay.” I was too loud. The pitter-patter of water on tile not enough to mask the gasps for air, the sounds of a dejected spirit. “I’m okay.” The door opens. “What’s going on?” “Please don’t pull back that curtain,” I think to myself, but don’t have the energy to say aloud. He’d see the true…

  • blog,  trauma

    “What Can You Donate?”

    “So I hear things are still bad,” they say. “They are,” I answer. “What can I do? What organization can I donate to?” It’s well intentioned, from big hearted people. They know my town is still destroyed. They want to help. So I send them to an organization and they probably give some of their hard earned money to it. But I wish I could give them my real answer. After Hurricane Michael hit, we received an influx of donations. Toys for kids, diapers, formula, bottled water … SO much bottled water … tarps, mattresses, food—non perishable of course. But what can you donate seven months later? Can you donate…

  • blog,  personal development

    Why we Should Love People the Way They Respond to

    I didn’t want a lot of people in my hospital room when I gave birth to my kids. When I’m sick, I want to be left alone. If I’m upset, I want to be left alone to process. If I’m going through some serious change, I want to be left alone to think and adjust. After a while I’ll come out, and I’ll maybe talk to one person about what transpired, or I’ll write about it and make art from pain and change. I extended the same courtesy to my friends and family for a while. I left them alone when big events happened because that’s what I need. I tried…

  • blog,  mental health,  trauma

    Grief Is Not Linear

    People arrive at the most tumultuous, most painful points of grieving right around the time their friends and loved ones tire of hearing about it and are ready to move on. Think about that.  In the initial weeks, first several months following a traumatic event, you’re not seeing grief … you’re seeing shock, survival and processing. That’s why loved ones from the outside looking in are thinking, “It’s been a year, you should be over this, moving forward by now.” But for the person living after the trauma, they haven’t even really started grieving yet. People used to dress in black for two years following the death of a loved…

  • mental health,  short story,  trauma

    Short Story: Oh, But How I Would Learn

    I needed a change of scene, needed to get out of my house and think. Everything was going great, my life seeming like it was finally smoothing out. Only a semester and a half left of my schooling, my husband had a new job after graduating, and both my young kids were in school for most of the day. It was the first time in six years I found myself completely alone, with free time to wander. Not to mention, my marriage was fire. We were connecting in a way that marked a new stage of our lives. My husband and I had married young and it was hard, like…

  • blog,  mental health,  personal development

    I Will Always Care What People Think

    I have no idea how to not care what anyone thinks. I’ve tried to figure that out my entire life. Hateful remarks used to put me in the bed for days, now it’s just an hour. Maybe I can get to where it only stings for a few minutes. The truth is, I will always care what people think of me. I care because I love people, I love humanity. I love our flaws and interesting stories. I love how complicated we all are. I’m interested in all sorts of viewpoints and methods of thought. I care because I’m not a sociopath.  I read something once that transformed my life.…

  • blog,  mental health,  parenting,  trauma

    You Can Be Anything, Except Safe

    I sent my kids off to school today with a bit of fear. The same small reluctance that plagues every parent after a school shooting in the U.S. I got them dressed and packed their lunches. I looked both of them in the eyes and told them I loved them. I gave them hugs and shooed them off like it was any other day. They love school. They love their teachers. It’s the end of the year when water days happen, and field trips and parties and other fun activities. I looked for the extra police presence that’s usually there after a shooting. There they were on every corner, an…

  • parenting,  poetry,  trauma

    Poem: Drowning Doesn’t Look Like Drowning

    “Drowning doesn’t look like drowning,” says the Teacher. “Know the signs, they aren’t quite what you expect.” “Then how can I know what to look for?” asks the Mother. “Keep your eyes open and your hand outstretched.” When someone is drowning, their arms won’t be flailing. No dramatic yells or sound effects. Their heads will be low with their mouths in the water. Your baby won’t be crying, they don’t know how yet. “Drowning doesn’t look like drowning,” says the Teacher. “Know the signs, they aren’t quite what you expect.” “Then how can I know what to look for?” asks the Mother. “Keep your eyes open and your hand outstretched.”…