tribe
January 18, 2016 § 4 Comments
Who is your tribe?
Those souls who lend companionship and sight; a place in the world mapped by an external expression of an internal acknowledgment of “me, too.”
My people come from the broken places of beautiful lives.
Mothers of children with special needs who celebrate the lessons of hard experiences with honesty for tender truths.
Couples who love fiercely and fight gently.
Families living through multigenerational cycles of unhealthy patterns who navigate pain for peace.
Women who don’t always love their bodies, but want to.
Parents parenting who aren’t certain they know how.
Imperfect friendships and perfect strangers destined to meet.
Adults who still harbor childhood dreams.
Authors of unfinished stores.
Romantics and realists.
These are my people.
bookmark
September 15, 2011 § 3 Comments
For my birthday a dear friend sent me a book with a singular passage highlighted. Up until the moment I began my blog, and occasionally even after, one singular thought casts doubt: what if this act of writing is self-absorbed? I tug self-consciously at this thread even as I weave new posts. Then, among the lines of another’s words, my friend sent me a moment of affirmation:
” ..I understood that writing was this: an impulse to share with other people a feeling or truth…” (If You Want To Write, Brenda Ueland)
In my first effort to gather my thoughts, identify myself among strangers, and mark a small corner of the world for my own voice I wrote: I am forever scribbling thoughts on scraps of paper and curious to share fragments of my life with others. My friend’s gift created a serendipitous reflection on the simple beauty and the universal gift of shared stories.
May all of our chapters be bookmarked with friendship.
small talk
February 7, 2011 § Leave a comment
Simple truth, I am horrible at small talk. I am quite certain everyone entertains unspoken thoughts filtered by etiquette and kept to themselves. I am absorbed by obscure thoughts and often get lost in wonderment unraveling a stray idea. This is why children are my favorite conversationalists. There is no small talk, only exclamations and whimsical tangents.
Children share tid bits of thought with the flourish of a suitor lavishing flowers. When I cut my hair from the middle of my back to a chin length bob, my daughter summoned an audience and proudly announced to her preschool class that I had cut my back hair. I was enchanted by the honest translation, however unflattering, for its originality.
Gather children together and the topics are as numerous as the stars in the sky. Guiding my daughter’s Kindergarten classmates through a task a student unexpectedly exclaimed, “You smell nice!” This tiny ripple drifted across the table’s perimeter leading to a series of unrelated thoughts; topics toppling into one another like dominos. It was one of my favorite mornings.
Caught between the elementary school age and teen years, my son performs basic conversations quickly and out of obligation, eager to spout statements of knowledge. I will not pretend to comprehend each of his scientific theories, but I adore his need to embrace a challenging concept at the end of a school day and skip the simple details of his lunch.
My life, graced with my children’s spontaneity, is riddled with conversational distractions; our days are happily fragmented. With fascination and humor I skip from story to statement, grateful for the endlessly entertaining rhythm of the unpredictable.
scribblechic 