Learning to Choose

Heart beats rapid.       The anticipation of words forming, thoughts leaking, habit breathing life after suffocating silence. Choose is a word too powerful to harness. Often I conveniently push aside the truth that such action is not only attainable and… Read More

The Sound Most Beautiful

It is time…I return…feeble but limping to the line of welcome. Join me. You are never unwanted here. Your voice – matters. Gather at Lisa-Jo’s for a depth-check of heart. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Boundaries appear not.    Qualifications stand unwanted.Justification exacts at one. Mercy… Read More

So Very Small

*I wasn’t planning on linking, but sentences spilled on page as the sharpness of the word stabbed deep. It’s as if the word were a name tag, taunting to be claimed.    I have a feeling many of us can pick it… Read More

Slow-beating broken

It’s the slowing beat, a broken rhythm, the pulse of unanswered questions. The pulse weak and the cause still undiscovered.      The back of the throat catches at the back of the mind’s doubt and I fight with myself over what… Read More

Because I know you…

* I avoid and hem and haw, yet ache to participate on these glorious days. These come-together days. The 5 minutes that feel like it can take all day to process. These women who teach me every time, how to pour out…. Read More

Five Minutes of Here

Eyelids close, slow inhale, exhale releases….      I want to type with blindness. Just because. It seems fitting. needed.     An expiremint worthy of….of what? Eyes open.I am back in leathered chair, rustic ottoman ensuring comfort. Music coming a little… Read More

Noticing Decent

Photo rights: mine.Taken in Chicago, 2013, atop the Willis Tower And it shouldn’t hurt to type letters.       I shouldn’t hesitate to empty thoughts from mind to that more tangible.  And yet it’s been so long…. Fall is often romanticized –… Read More

Times of Broken

It was a day already tainted with stress and disappointment. Now, I cannot even remember the whys. But I remember the dejection and apathy I felt.   It’s what brought me to their house – walls filled with four adopted brothers. My friends… Read More

The Operative Word of REST

Personal photo; Lowell park bench I press the ‘start’ button,      seconds tick silently by; milliseconds in count behind. And tired is all that I am in this space. It is not a bad tired.  And we all know there is… Read More


The minutes tick by, my brain shrinks with each passing moment I refuse eyes’ closing. Yet I want to stay up. It’s only 5 minutes, but it’s worth time incalculable. Igniting the embers of creativity, catharsis, and growth. And so I waited… Read More