It’s funny how we spend our lives wandering in circles, thinking we’re traveling in straight lines from Point A to Point B(etter).
Do you ever feel like your body is too small to hold all your emotions? Yeah, me too.
Today, one of the most quietly amazing women I’ve ever met turns a year older. Here’s why you should care: in the course of this post, she will restore your faith that people can be unbearably beautiful, scary smart, wicked funny, and still remain completely down-to-earth.
If the “marrow” Thoreau speaks of is the secret meaning life holds at its core, then words are the tools that crack life’s bones wide open. And me? I am studying to be a butcher.
Sometimes, you meet a person and there’s an instant “click;” an almost-audible moment when your heart recognizes theirs. Sometimes you’re drawn to their stories or the way they make you laugh, to the glint in their eye or sheer awe at what they’ve overcome. Every friendship is a kind of falling in love.
I’m a collector of fine rap lyrics. My recent favorites include, “She’s my Sleeping Beauty, I’ma put her in a coma,” and, “Our conversations ain’t long, but you know what is.” There was also one back in the day, a true classic: “Her booty was packed just like a lunch pail.” Holla!
I spent Memorial Day weekend in Chicago celebrating the 80th birthdays of both J’s paternal grandparents. We didn’t know it when we flew up, but this year also marks the 67th anniversary of their first meeting – they’ve known each other since they were 13.
It was misting soft rain as I scanned the blurry crowd, seeking a face only half-known. A wave drew me to him. He was a warm smile under a black umbrella, and I couldn’t help but grin back. When we found each other by the fountain, he asked, “Would you like to get under here?”
This has been a week of poetry. Shouldn’t life’s storms always be followed by art?
A friend told me that a yoga teacher once asked her, during shavasana, to picture the room of her heart. Today, I thought I’d create my own.