I had an interesting discussion with some students today. We were going over some Latin root words, and being a self-proclaimed Latin geek, I was loving the connections between some English words and their Latin ancestors. The Latin word respiro means "to breathe." This word is the foundation for several of our English words, including respirate, conspiracy, and inspiration. Think about this for a minute. Breath is the very foundation of life. After we emerge from the womb, breathing is one of our first activities. Air must flow through our lungs. I can't help but wonder just how important inspiration is to our lives. It comes from the word for breath! So what exactly is a life without inspiration? I only need to look back at some rough stretches of my own life to get a glimpse. In those moments, depression seeped in. Numbness to the world overcame all sensation. Merely walking through the motions of life took extraordinary effort. When I was seventeen, my life was in sh

My friend, Nadia, and I have been tossing around the concept of living by the senses. She first heard it on the Travel Channel. (You're better off traveling by your senses than by an intinery.) Since then, this idea has become part of my life, as I see more and more just how moved I am by my senses. I'm tired right now, so I will go into this more later. For now, I wanted to share something relating to this topic. My favorite time of day is the wee hours of the morning. I've been this way for as long as I can remember. A few weeks ago, a full moon lured me out from under my cozy quilt. My dog needed to go out, and I found myself captivated by the brightness of the moon contrasting with the black sky. The moon is mysterious and beautiful. It can blind my eyes and light a path. I find its predictability comforting. That morning, I was awed, bathing in it's glow. I could feel the energy run through my body. It was a moment. I threw the dog back inside, grabbed my camera, a

Checking the mail was a fun experience today. I found out that my short story, "Fiona's Secret" will be published in Cantilevers, Florida Southern College's Journal of the Arts. I was fairly confident the review committee would select the story...it's about a woman with a secret that she cannot even mention to her best friend. A guilt plagues her to such a degree that she ends up wishing for her best friend's death and struggling with the dissonance of such a warped perception of reality. Good stuff...definitely worth the time to read...and I'm not just saying it because I know the writer intimately.

I read this quote in a magazine last week: "What a wonderful life I've had! I only wish I'd realized it sooner." It spoke to me in such a degree that I ripped it out of the magazine in the waiting room--a larcenous act I would not normally commit. I look back on the last twenty-nine years I've walked this earth and realize that Colette's words could easily roll off my tongue. My life's tapestry is woven with memories that span from holy to hellish...innocent to scandelous...ecstatic to morbidly depressing. From this vantage point it's a beautiful testament to my Creator and His ability to redeem my soul. Walking through much of it has left me at times shamed and afraid and giddy, but I wouldn't trade those moments because they have all pieced together to form the woman I am today. Still, all these experiences have left me still yearning for something more. I'm starting to believe that the greatest challenge of my life is bucking my capacity to

Inside My Head waTchiNg (dreams around me come true) wIsHing (my turn would spring into view) wAntinG (a life i dare not reveal) wonDeRing (how long will i wait to be real) whiSperIng (prayers each morning sunrise) waLloWing (here in the midst of my life) P.S. I must be in an e.e. cummings mood!

Epiphany in Mexico Carry me away on turquoise waves to the place where all I have to think about is how the sun melts away the layers of my sensibilities Sing to me you ancient spirits your songs of this mystical place where time stands still and I feel once again a part of humanity Greet me in the morning blazing sun burning my skin until the stars caress my soul in the still hours where I finally know I have a vision

My husband and I wasted away most of our Saturday afternoon rummaging through the tool stores. I know that most women would cringe at the thought of this kind of weekend, but I have a lot of fun watching his eyes light up at the sight of air compressors and quarter-inch sockets. These days are always good for interesting conversation and lots of joking around. Lately, we've been discussing the idea of moving from the central Florida area. I brought this up a few months ago, and he's since seen why. The area has changed so much in the last 6 years. Traffic. Too much growth. Attitudes. When he mentioned the idea of moving, I knew this was significant. He is the kind of man who completely thinks through his actions before even talking about them. I know that he will already have a well-thought out plan of action for every objection I have. It's funny how realizing that your wishes are on the brink of coming true puts them in a new perspective. As soon as moving was a possibili

I'm reading the most fabulous book I've flipped through in a while. It's called "On Mexico Time"--the true story (told in essays) of a Los Angeles writer and his painter wife who take a spur of the moment vacation to San Miguel in central Mexico. They fall in love with the place, return to LA to sell their home, and take up residence in the Mexican town. I must take a moment to sigh. I've discovered that there are two kinds of people in this world: those who've been to Mexico and those who haven't. Just listen to them talk about Mexico, and you'll know who's been there and who thinks they know enough from this side of the border. Last night, I was telling my aunt about the book, and her immediate response was, "I have no desire to go to Mexico, and I don't understand why anyone does." This afternoon, I was sharing the book with a co-worker. She stopped me mid-description and asked, "They move there, don't they?" I no