the inconsistency of my consistency is astounding. particularly in regards to my yoga practice. a regular practice alludes me. my excuse? fear. for the mat reflects exactly what you need.…
the older i grow, the less patient my observer self is with my projections. “little one,” it sighs, “you’ve nothing to be afraid of. he doesn’t hate you. she is…
choosing a word to represent the new year never occurred to me until i read about it what an ingenious idea! a word to funnel your energy into! a single…
big questions arrived with the new year or simply rolled over from the last but they are here, hovering, lurking, skulking. their surfaces give way to much, much deeper pits…
how to describe the love? rippling and pulsing like after shock shocking? permeating every cell, brimming and brimming? swollen up fat as a mosquito sick on blood? how to depict…
old habits lay dead and dying at my feet, stung to death by the question: “from where did that response spring?” and the rational answer that follows, that dissolves any…
i live in a big little city. within its seven mile by seven mile radius, thousands of people roam. buses lurch, cars honk. houses and condos and apartment seem to…
i’ve tried on a lot of skins — i’ve been a martyr, a savior, and a saint. i’ve worn them until they got too tight, too loose, too scratchy, too…
how do our bodies communicate? through pain? through tingling? through subtle feeling? yes, yes, and yes. our bodies speak to us deliberately, consistently, and without fail. each morning we can…
age creeps up on you. i blink, and am three months away from 25. young still, but feeling older, more polished, more free. more adult, dare i say. i think…