The children helped me remember lessons I had forgotten. Hannah knows that life comes in rhythms of rest and wonder. She does not rush to crawl; she does not fight sleep when it comes at 9:47a.m. Anders was moved by water. He blessed the earth with his curious hands: the stones, the creek, the swans … Continue reading oct. 27
Home is a corner room that looks out over Fourth avenue. Where I’ve got pictures and cards taped to the wall and Christmas lights arching over the window. It’s where the girls sneak in on Saturday mornings to grin and say hello and then jump on the bed before I can move. Home is stumbling … Continue reading oct. 26
This city is full of people I don’t know, friends I haven’t made yet. I am thankful for them, for the strangers I pass on Park Place at 9:07 in the morning. For their smart outfits, their zany hair and quick baits. For the strangers I find at my coffee shop on a blistery Saturday … Continue reading oct. 25
Life under the mercy begins with a howl.
It was August. I found myself sitting on the edge of my bed, watching traffic creep by my window and stifling the urge to upturn everything for no reason: the laundry bin, the bed covers, the clothing baskets. I had just found a regular babysitting job and was planning on settling into a new rhythm. I had told myself, I could do this. I could freelance-and-side-hustle. Told myself that I was tough. That I could make it if I just worked harder. So I worked harder. Then I woke up one morning and realized how hard it was to get out of bed, how I could barely bring myself to write. How everything felt heavy and weary.
Maybe this was a mid-life crisis. Continue reading “mercy”