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Do This Instead

This is mostly written to myself, as a reminder that the things I usually do are not the things that make me happy. I’m trying to change that.

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The Chaos of Hope

Words are wild, violent slippery things; you never know when they might go flying out of control. But if anything, this essay is about losing control, about leaning into the chaos of hope.

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day 9: and sometimes you don't

I’m tired and my eyes hurt. It’s a good sort of tired because I’ve spent all day having adventures with my kids, but tired just the same and I honestly don’t feel like writing right now. I tell you that to say this: sometimes you feel like it and sometimes you don’t. This is true…

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From the Other Side

I can still remember how empty those words felt a year ago, how little I believed what I was writing when I told myself I’d make it to the other side.

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Day 16: Healing

I don’t need a calendar to tell me it’s been a year. I can feel it in the air when I step outside, the crisp wind that tears leaves from trees and sends them skidding down Minneapolis sidewalks. Images crowd in at the periphery of my memory. I don’t need to glance at them to know…

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