This is how things come together—
falling into place like a penny in a slot…
I doodle maps of this strange half-place, sketching the Mordor of an invisible widow…
The suffering of any child matters to the human family.
Even in the magical realm, waterfront is premium.
My son brought the best valentine home from Grade Two...
Working in the garden, you can’t help but feel it: the looming threat of another Texas summer.
If you go home for a night, don't smell his deodorant: it's a grenade.
She didn’t just teach me how to ride; she taught me how to live.
More and more now, it’s not so much that I notice the animals, but that they notice me.
In the beginning, you see dog hair as evidence: you need to clean the house better, and more often.
How can I take responsibility for my fear?
There were trumpets and angels and blossoms in my mouth.
You’ll find yourself caught in it before you can figure out what happened. Here is all you need to remember: don’t panic.
Tell me what you want, and I’ll help you.
…because there is enough-time, creativity and space for all of us to be seen, heard and valued for what we offer.
Choice as a launchpad into "yes", and the adventure of life.
The opposing currents are the ones within myself.
If there’s a chance of a greater consciousness running our world, I like to think of it as a cosmic Game Master.
Let yourself fall, let your mightiness fracture as it collides with the earth.
If you stay long enough, awareness sweeps out low and fast on silent wings.
Quitting drinking was equal parts miracle, willingness, and God.
We were a story of conflicting truths that never should have been.
The bird was still warm, the cat crouched in the corner. Life, and the end of it, hung in the air.
Just like the light and shadow support one another, the forgetting and remembering need each other to be seen.
I signed away the rights to my own damn treasure...
The friends at the table, whose only goal is to make a story together, understand.
Is the thing you're calling a problem really coming from 'out there', or a little closer to home?
Pollux, one of my dogs, is whining, ears pricked, tail wagging, and staring directly at me.
Something light and wispy brushes your face. It feels like Spanish moss. It’s dark out here.
The only thing that exists is the present moment.