The Act of Letting Go

Well, I did it. I released him.  I won’t call it “saying goodbye”, as I had previously written;  I will simply say I released him. I went to say goodbye.  I walked his ashes down to the water with the intention of saying goodbye, but as the ashes scattered in the wind and drifted down…

How Do You Say Goodbye Without Saying Goodbye?

I wish there had been a funeral or a memorial service.  Something. Something ceremonial or commemorative.  I feel like maybe that was the plan at one point, but the way that everything unfolded was too unpredictable and bizarre.  I don’t think anyone knew how to handle it, or wanted to handle it, or wanted to…

Shooting Star or Soulful Encounter?

The world slows to a single breath. It lingers hot on my tongue and slow on the exhale. Time ceases to exist and our eyes lock across the crowded room. There are few people in this world that draw you near, making your pulse quicken and your stomach leap into your throat; but he is…

When My Hands Find Their Way

When my hands find their way to you, they are instantly home. Words cease to matter since I can feel you now. Your words are beautiful though.  When you speak, they hang thick in the air and wash over me like the fog pouring over the bridge in the crisp dark of night. They envelope…

Unarmoring My Heart

It wasn’t until the death of my ex-boyfriend that I realized how strongly I had been guarding my heart. It should have been evident from my inability to find another partner, but I couldn’t see it. I had grieved the death of our relationship, the future we planned for ourselves, and his presence in my…

Listen to your Heart

There is so much talk about paying attention to your breath.  Your life force. The way your feet hit the ground when you propel yourself down the path. The way you react when someone or something triggers you. You must pay attention to your thoughts.  Pay attention to your verbal response and to your initial…

A Request for Your Honest Story

One of my favorite things in the world is stories.  I have an affinity for words, novels, short stories and tall-tales.  But more than that, I love to hear people’s real stories.  I am that friend that you mean to have a quick coffee with and somehow end up amazed when five hours have past…

Song on the Wind

My dearest love, The song of change has begun to play. Again.  We have heard it before, you and I. Have we not?  Have we not laid in bed and listened to the birds begin to lift their voices in the sweetest melody ever heard?  Have we not heard it again as we strolled through…

This Thing We Do

There’s this thing we do.  Not all people.  Not just men or just women, but many people and most at some point in their life.  We fight.  We stay.  Long after tears were shed and words exchanged and locks turned on doors.  Long after blame was placed and punishment doled and we shatter to the…

Mothers are a Gift

I remember a time as a child when I asked my mother if I was an “oops baby”.  If I had been a surprise.  If I was the baby that so fondly found her, instead of her finding me.  I was not asking out of concern, as if there was anything wrong with it, but…