Hello, there 2023! I've been waiting for you.

Brave.

If you go back in time far enough you'll discover that the word we use to describe someone courageous derives from Latin and Greek words meaning "foreign" or "uncivilized."

When I think about the moments in my life when I felt brave, I was often in a foreign land or speaking a foreign tongue or doing something completely new to me. Being brave means embracing uncertainty and sorting through uncomfortable feelings.

Brave also involves a degree of savageness. Untamed. Ferocious. This next chapter in my life is about pressing forward, radically accepting, and unabashedly claiming my truth.

I hope this new year brings new work, a new home, new relationships, and new adventures. I hope you'll join me.

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Stalking a Pirate

Prepared we were not to cross Captain Jack's path late in the summer of ten, with the sun bearing down as we wandered the town where the Koreshans once lived. But he nodded. We smiled and went on our way, rolling it all in our heads. We giggled and talked and suddenly stopped to turn back and run after him. You see love for a pirate and sailing the seas rest deep in a gypsy girl's soul, where she dreams of the day he will take her away to find a new place in the world. So we followed his swagger as he wound through the woods and stopped to take in the sights. You know when chance comes to call you must answer with all because sometimes she doesn't seek twice. There we tracked Captain Jack on the seashell lined path and dreamed of the life that he lived With his swashbuckling ways that man made our day late in the summer of ten. You know love for a pirate and an adventurer's life lie deep in a gypsy girl's soul, where she dreams of the world she has yet to explore an...

Trying to Keep It All Together

The title of this post is a bit of a misnomer. Just this morning I said, "I'm having a hard time getting it together right now." I'm in one of those periods when showing up is the best I can offer, and I can't even guarantee that. That said, I just popped on here to share that I'm struggling. I'm dealing with a lot of loss right now. Some of it is easy to spot. Some of it I've tucked away because it's either terribly painful or terribly embarrassing--at least to me. Some of it was inevitable. Some of it was a surprise. All of it rises up into the center of my chest and begs me to stop for a moment to acknowledge it. It's doing that right now even as I type this. I'm having a hard time getting it together right now.

Warning Signs

This post has been sitting on my computer for the last few weeks. In the wake of this week, the message seems even more appropriate. *** For several months now, the service engine light has been on and off...mostly on. I've taken it to the mechanic several times, and he's pulled the code and checked out all the usual suspects before calling me to pick it up. There have even been a few times that it goes off on its own. And then comes back on. It's a bit of a waiting game, as I'm waiting until someone finally figures out what's going on. I was thinking about the service engine light this morning on the way to work and comparing it to how many times in life we talk about missing the warning signs. It's a convenient response, kind of like, "stay strong" or "she's in a better place now." Those empty words that fill an uncomfortable space and are usually best left unsaid. The truth, which sometimes seems to be messier, is that warning...

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