A Love Letter from the Liminal
Dear Sweet Human in Progress, If you ever forget how you got here, let me remind you: it was a year of tiny, brave choices. A year of learning to stay. To the version with stronger inner guidance the one who doesn’t run from silence remember 2025: the year I acknowledged I’d been performing for others and began the slow, ruthless practice of living for me. Just me, on purpose learning how to be human without needing momentum to feel worthy, without chasing the next shiny thing just to feel alive. 2025: the year I didn’t run. I listened so closely I heard the wind change directions. The year my…
Surrender
I have a message for you Her strong hands Know stuck parts My estranged bones yearn to melt into my soul A primal desire trapped deep in my hips Surviving in fear and disappointment Aching to be free Her strong hands offer permission To become unstuck I weep for fear of freedom A rush of love charges through my veins Mom, are you here? Surrender, she whispers Written in February 2025 I wrote Surrender during the second month of my unplanned sabbatical—looking back on that time one year later, so much of the pain of that time all makes sense, but in the moment it was so confusing. What…
The Girl in the Strawberry Field
On a hot, sticky day to work I went. Picking strawberries with my new white dress. I was getting hungry so I decided to eat some strawberries. Yum! They’re sweet and juicy. Oh no, I squirted some on my dress. I am getting sunburned. The money I will make will have to go to suntan lotion. My children are probably screaming for me. Only three more hours left. “This job is too tiring,” I said as I fell to my knees. Church tomorrow… what will I wear? My dress is stained and torn My boots are not white but brown. My knees are shaking and I am sunburned and I…
