Constant. Steady. Always present. I'm a visual learner. It's the image of something tangible that allows me to make sense of the unseen, unknown. That is just how my brain works. Even when I take tests for school, I will close my eyes and see the study guides I spent hours reviewing to pull out … Continue reading A letter of love….
This simple phrase that refers to our own self worries, troubles, misfortune....woe is me. Or as I like to think of it, woe is we. This common self loathing theme that summarizes the story of our life that nothing we do is good enough, that we are constantly missing the mark and that everyone around … Continue reading Woe is me…woe is we.
Here I sit almost a year from when I first put my fingers to the keys and began this whole 'writing' thing to see what it was all about. Ironically, it was the holidays that sparked my writing bug, due to my desperate need to get all the emotions and 'feels' out of my head … Continue reading My Thanksgiving Feels…
There's something about a deeply warn book. The bend of the spine and the markings among the pages. This space where wisdom was found and lessons were learned. I love it. As I thumb through the pages of the book I am preparing a study for, I can't help but feel confident that I have … Continue reading A deeply warn book.
Overwhelmed, unsure, worried, disappointed, shocked, stressed, these are all feelings that at one moment in time overtook my brain before I lost my babies; these are the thoughts that would go on to haunt me. Did I wish this upon myself? Was I not grateful enough? Did I take this blessing for granted, therefore it … Continue reading The grief found in our thoughts…(miscarriage/loss)
I have a common thread weaving through the tapestry of my life right now. Struggle. Not that I am personally facing a monumental struggle, in fact, I finally feel like I am walking in the light after years OF struggle. It's the struggle of those around me that find me still facing the war of … Continue reading Perspective….
As long as I can remember, writing has poured from my fingers the way paint splashes onto a canvas. The words, the thoughts, just left my head as if they had been stored there for that exact moment in time. I recall one year when I was probably 10 years old, deciding to make a … Continue reading Finding my passion.