Tell Me Something Good

When life rattles my timbers and storms down hurting so hard that my peace gets swallowed up in mudslides of un-helpful thinking, it’s become just shy of muscle memory,  this practice, that throws open the windows of my heart and lets the bad air out. It started years ago while driving down the road with…

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The layers and the light…..

My process begins with a heartpour my own unscripted words dumped raw onto clean, blank page. A turn-the-purse-upside-down-and-send-the-contents-dumping. It’s never pretty.  Never polished.  And can be a little wrenching. I write the unsayable things – the stuff of which Anne Lamott wrote, “my thoughts were such that would make Jesus want to drink gin out…

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Thank you notes at lap 57…..

To celebrate as I begin another jaunt around the sun;  57 brand new thank you notes: (in no particular order) Thank you,  Everett Road,  for being a slow leisurely ride for bicycles pretty much all day every day. You make me slow down and think about how much value lives inside each package of skin.…

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Of sinners, saints and seagulls…..

(Gosh,  I almost put out a cold tray of leftovers for you here again today because I’m scared silly to wrangle free the words stuck inside. But here goes. Because a bad beginning is better than no beginning at all) My life is a small one, as lives here are generally measured. My jobs have…

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beauty to believe in….

I’ve been a little weary with swelter so I picked a little bouquet  from my archives, with hope that maybe sharing will helps stir our strength to singing. I believe in seeds and sanctuary, hot baths and cool breeze, in seasons and stories and music and farming and angels and acorns and options and dreams.…

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