Category: GROWTH

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forty yeARS
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forty yeARS

If I were to draw forty years, it would not be a straight line. Imagining doing so, my pencil falls off the page and wanders to the edges of a dark wilderness with tiny embers of glimmering light shining through and between thick branches that are beautiful to look at but often prickly to the...

No RUSH
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No RUSH

I caught myself. It was close but I felt this fidgety, anxious spirit rising from my belly and then I caught myself. You [speaking to myself] cannot, will not, wish for this time to pass quickly.  I will not miss what is right in front of me for the sake of preoccupation over the what...

MOMENTS
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MOMENTS

We are given moments, not days and weeks, months and years. We are given moments. One as distinct and audible as a single sigh. I am sighing a lot these days. Not from a feeling of something ominous, but from the glorious revelation that life is longer, stretched like a slow sunset, when I will...

i AGREE
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i AGREE

My entire life I’ve been known for my hair. I remember after attending the Senior Standouts high school assembly and receiving the award for Prettiest Hair, I drove home, ran into my mama’s room and collapsed on her bed in tears, the shame overtaking me that while others received recognition for “Best All Around,” and...

Resuscitators of Beauty
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Resuscitators of Beauty

I glance over in the middle of the movie because somehow, I know his eyes, like mine, will be filled with tears. This is the same man who met me at the gate this evening with blood stains on his forehead—in the midst of slaying dragons all day, both invisible and those taking human form,...

FINDING HOME
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FINDING HOME

I called my brother yesterday. Our conversations are always a bit of a conundrum, mainly because his boundaries with every encounter seem to arbitrarily change. We grew up together. So there’s this assumed intimacy on my end. I guess I’m learning after all these years that a shared past isn’t an entitlement to climb inside...

TINY SIPS OF ARSENIC
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TINY SIPS OF ARSENIC

I watched the vice presidential debate.  I felt a responsibility to join the 57 million who would attempt to digest the conversation without losing their evening meal. I’m not saying that all was troublesome or treacherous. But my stomach, like the rest of me, was tied in knots even before the first sentence began. There...

WISE words
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WISE words

Can you imagine caring for someone so much that you would handwrite nine full pages expressing how you felt?  We are in such a hurry with our words, these days, that we barely even take the time to write a comment on a feed that adequately states what we really feel.  There is so much...

The Agony of Choice
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The Agony of Choice

NOTE TO READER:  We’ve all become so black and white. It’s easier that way.  We blanket our opinions over everything so we don’t have to look again, question our thinking, dig in. I think my title, “The Agony of Choice,” is on point in deep and difficult ways. We want someone to decide for us....