You have beautiful children, ma'am, the waitress said as she set the table. They don't look like you. They both look like your husband. A compliment lies in the eyes of the beholder, I suppose.
I am an immigrant. I left my home country for an adventure at 25 and then, for good, at 28. There were many things wrong with the place I came from but the decision to leave had little to do with any of them. Rather, I followed this invisible pull from within, which softly but … Continue reading the secret
it can happen anytime for example while walking somewhere nice or just regular like on a city sidewalk with garbage cans left on the curbside for pickup when suddenly everything stops including me, mid-stride without a warning and I begin to see clearly this world I am in clouds moving leaves swaying birds overhead and … Continue reading what grace feels like
For where two or three gather in my name, there am I with them. (Matthew 18:20) *** I never liked going to church much. At times, I thought that it is due to some personal failure or deficiency of mine. And it might be that I just don’t get it. But I have certainly felt … Continue reading For where two or three gather…
She never seemed large despite her Rubenesque shape round and bumpy but slightly bent under the invisible though certainly palpable load of hurt guilt and shame that she carried slowly imploding yet consistently finding refuge in things like a chunk of bread thickly spread with butter sometimes she forgot the burden altogether caught by surprise … Continue reading Mother
I am not an expert but I think weeds are much prettier and more interesting than impeccably manicured lawns.
I used to think that the sheer number of humans on this planet indicated that each individual one is not overly important that a couple hundred thousand plus or minus does not make any difference in the grand scheme of things and now that I have served as a doorway for these delightful beings it … Continue reading Reverence
there is more than this to this earthly existence my mom used to say never explaining how she arrived at this truth I think I know what she meant
remember that time when we sat in that cellar conga drums and candles stuck in old beer bottles for ambiance I realized that you were there with me for me and I wailed suddenly remembering that I, too, am lovable
Trauma is hereditary experts say old pain lodges itself in all those spaces between atoms of our bodies and no amount of thinking positive or otherwise can remedy the damage the good news is you can nurse yourself back to serenity with forgiveness