Posts Tagged ‘writing’
day 1: all the static and colors inside of me
I’m here because I want to be the kind of person who writes. I want to stay in the habit of putting words to all the static and colors inside of me. Even if it’s just for ten minutes.
Read MoreWhat I've Been Doing for The Past Six Months
You may remember I was super sad, and then I got divorced, and then I did a bunch of yoga and cooking, and then I stopped blogging. Now I’m back.
Read MoreWhen Blogging Isn't Fun and Nothing Else Is Either
Yesterday at 3:17 p.m. I typed into Google “I don’t feel joy.” I had no reason to be unhappy, and yet…
Read MoreA Love Letter to Bloggers
I’m grateful for a place to put my words — barely edited and a little bit undercooked. And I’m so very grateful that you’re doing the same thing.
Read MoreThe Truth About Waking Up
I read your message last night, the one you sent a week or two ago. You told me about how my faith and hope are helping you hold on to faith and hope even when you want to give up. You called my writing “honest” and “vulnerable” and told me that you cried reading it. You…
Read MoreDay 31: Using My Words
It’s just late afternoon, and already dark outside, so I guess it’s November now and October’s #Write31Days challenge is over. I guess also that I’m a day late with this post, and that maybe I skipped a few days toward the end. I guess I was just busy doing human stuff. /// As I watched…
Read MoreDay 26: Failing
This is also part of becoming human. And in the grand narrative of the world, missing two days of a thirty-one day writing challenge is barely worth mentioning as a failure. I realize this. What’s worth mentioning, though, is that failure is inseparable and essential to the process of becoming human. (As much as I…
Read MoreDay 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…
Read MoreDay 14: Looking Back
I’m sitting in the Minneapolis airport, about to hop on a plane toward Chicago and a weekend with the Bedlam Family. I just got done reading a thing Melissa Hawks wrote, a story about how we became friends. It started with an interview at a pizza shop in Minneapolis last fall. It’s funny, reading it now, because…
Read MoreDay 13: Giving Up
I did not want to get out of bed today. Everything felt grey and numb and lifeless, and I couldn’t even remember how to begin being human. Laying there on my mattress, I thought of how last week that I’d woken up and done yoga and gone running and kicked ass all day. It felt like a…
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