This isn't something anyone asked me to write on. I'm just writing on it. I woke up this morning feeling numb. Feeling nostalgic. Feeling unsettled. I have a lot to do, yet nothing to do. Why do anything at all? I stayed in bed for a while. Then I felt like playing a song I …
Continue reading Blogging Everyday in July|Nostalgia Makes Mountains Out of Molehills
There are things that I love in life. Things that I'm figuring out. Things I feel called to. And I'm learning that there are things that I need. I love art. I love stories, both hearing them and telling them. This is why I love people, even though I make such a point of saying …
Take me on a journey Over mountains Across seas Past fields of endless possibilities It's time to tread roughly On realized dreams No more falling apart at the seams Spying new realities Just over the horizon Something I've never experienced before Warmth entering an endless spring Winter is my home Building a house from broken …
A lot of us like to get angry at the weather. The town I live in relies on heavy snow in the winter and beautiful weather in the summer because it's a mountain resort town. However, over the last four years, California has been in a drought that has kept the snow from falling. But …
I asked you to tell me about your best day "Tell me a story," I said And you say you have nothing That although your life exists of days, months, and years You have no stories for me You have no best day And as much as I want to make this molehill into a …
There is a lot of brokenness everywhere We could close our eyes and point and some cracks would be revealed And we could ask so many times how to fix this imperfect world But is that really our job? I think we might be focusing on the wrong thing We only see the dirt, the …
The rolling hills became mountains before me I climbed them, steady and true Now I live among them and thrive I have lost no will to survive Everything that had kept me up at night Now brings me terror in the day But I will fight through this, strong I will not be held down …
There's a girl I know. I see her most days, but she's only a ghost of who she once was, and nowhere near who she could be. She sometimes stares too long, allowing me to notice how puffy her eyes are from crying, even though that was hours ago. She lost the light in her …
