life
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Rambling on about time, tenderness, and learning when to step back and breathe… Life is changing. People are changing. I am changing. Some days everything seems to move in slow motion… others zoom by. I look up and another day is gone. Another week. Another month. Three-fourths of the year has slipped clean off the…
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Self-care. Even the words used to make me feel a little guilty… as if taking time for myself meant I had somehow misplaced my cape while the rest of the world waited to be rescued. So many of us are wired as women, mothers, and caretakers to notice everyone else’s needs before our own. We…
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Home. Four letters, one small word, and enough meaning to fill every room we have ever loved. We say home is where the heart is, but I think it reaches deeper than that. Home settles into the soul. It is where we hope to feel safe, seen, and able to exhale without explaining ourselves. I…
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Rambling on about life and boundaries… Standing my ground. Life is a journey—although, if we are honest, it often feels less like a scenic train ride and more like assembling furniture without the instructions. We learn as we go, grow as we stumble, and hope the wisdom we collect will make the next stretch a…
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A little hindsight, a little humor, and a handful of truths worth carrying… If I could sit across from someone young and just starting out in life, I would not pretend to have all the answers. First of all, no one believes that person anyway. Second, life has a way of humbling even the most…
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Some people hear the call of the open road deep in their bones. Others hear the call of their own couch and answer it with a blanket, a snack, and no apologies. We are all different that way, and honestly, the couch people may be onto something. For those of us who do like to…
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Again, I grew up in the best of times—or at least it sure feels that way when I look back through the soft, flickering glow of a Saturday morning television screen. Saturday hit early at our house. We did not ease into the day so much as tumble into it, sleepy-eyed and barefoot, staged in…
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Who says dogs can’t talk? Around here, Jake and Jetson carry on full conversations every single day. They just don’t bother with words. Their language is made of barks, groans, yips, side-eyes, dramatic sighs, tail flicks, fence-line patrols, and the occasional silent protest that could win awards if there were a category for “most offended…
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Airports are funny places. Not funny as in “ha-ha, what a relaxing afternoon,” but funny as in “how did I end up powerwalking past a sushi bar, a luggage store, a coffee shop, a gift shop, three people on speakerphone, and a restroom line long enough to qualify as a parade?” They are the places…
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A dreamy, sincere little argument with time travel, memory, and the ache of growing older… If someone handed me a calendar and said, “Pick one year. You may have it back,” I would like to tell you I’d answer quickly. I would like to be the kind of person who knows exactly which door in…
