“He once thought it himself, that he might die of grief: for his wife, his daughters, his sisters, his father, and master [all dead] … But the pulse, obdurate, keeps its rhythm. You think you cannot keep breathing, but your ribcage has other ideas, rising and falling, emitting sighs. You must thrive in spite of… Read More Being still
For some women, it comes so naturally. Like my mother. All her life, she wanted little ones. She married young, is a natural nurturer, adores her own mother. And nearly ten months after her wedding day, a shrill cry broke the air and I came along. These days, you’ll find her playing on the floor with trash… Read More The mystery that is Motherhood
No dim lights, muffled tears and stuffy office today. This morning, my therapy is out in the open skies. I’m riding Eagle. I blink in the warm rays of sunshine and inhale the cool breeze. A perfect day for flying. My heart flutters in anticipation of what’s to come. I trust the rider with my… Read More Riding Eagle
Hey, mamas. Have you ever had someone walk into your house and ask the big question: “What have you been doing all day?” Ugh. Whenever this happens, I find myself scrambling for some sort of neat checklist to deliver so that I can get an A+ in motherhood. Not only that, but often during my run-of-the-mill… Read More Making the grade
The other day, while helping me with the dishes, my 3-year-old announced: “Hey mom! Look, my finger is taking a shower!” It’s the little things. In the midst of all the rush, the “efficiency” of multitasking (which actually means we never really focus on one thing at a time), the bustle, the noise, the beeps… Read More Dishes, Digital, and Withdrawal
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