Before there were synced calendars and day planners and even before there were trapper keepers, there was a little girl who sat in trees. She sat in the trees for what felt like hours, though it might have been mere minutes. She dreamed, journal-ed and sketched. She transported to a place of joy and bliss, cradled in the crooks of maples and oaks, conversing with imaginary beings.
I thought I had writer's block. For three months (almost) I despaired that the writing gods had gone away and it was officially over. No more. All hope was lost. What I did not see (or more accurately, did not want to see) was that I was avoiding my truth.
The Heroine’s Journey is about reclaiming our vitality, our joy, and escaping the Wasteland.
Speaking your truth is the most powerful tool you have.
The man who gives you a back rub without your permission. The guy who stands a little too close to you on the bus, so close you can smell the alcohol on his breath. The boys who joked and the men who joked and so many jokes but you were never laughing. The jokes you didn't understand because you were too young to understand. The gut punch when you were old enough to finally get what they meant.
Take heart. I bet you have it together more than you think. For goodness sake, it's not like you still have Christmas decor lying around in your shrubs in July!
I am so excited to share with you all that a piece I wrote, 'Seven Things Nobody Tells You About Miscarriage" has been published on Mommyish.com! They are all about sharing the day-to-day truths related to 'parenting imperfect'--what better home for some truth-telling about miscarriage than their site? (Plus Mommyish loves listicles--even listicles about miscarriage despite the fact my husband thinks it is creepy. Plus they appreciate my love of animated gifs. My piece even includes a gif from Jane the Virgin! AND LIZ LEMON IN A SNUGGIE.)
Do you hear the quiet hum that is slowly rattling the china? The whistle that is building to a roar? For some it was the bragging about sexual assault. For others, the name-calling and body-shaming. For me, it was Jane Doe's story. Jane's story was largely buried, for to speak of it was to admit it was… Continue reading Why Donald Trump Compels Me to Speak
Where to begin! I have so many stories to tell and I haven't posted in a few days, so there is a log jam. Must get words on paper! First, I want to share that it is October 1st, and I have been called to write about BREAST CANCER PREVENTION. I am going to brew… Continue reading It was a SARAH kind of day
Yesterday I did something that made my palms sweat and my heart race. I shared my story (the one I told you about yesterday)...publicly on Facebook. With my FRIENDS. AND. FAMILY. I know. Can you even believe this? If you are anything like my sister you are laughing a little. My sister is the yin to my… Continue reading Sweaty Palms and…Joy?