This past week I was finding myself teetering between shutting down ("I'm going to ignore Facebook right now") and also automatically writing the story's ending. ("This is Nazi, Germany. This escalates from here. Next comes the [insert parade of horrors]"). But then I realized that when my mind creates that ending, that is the ending we get. So I decided to choose a different ending. This story will end with love of millions raising voices and declaring, we demand ferocious, expansive love that protects, lifts, reunites and heals.
For every card sent by a child $5 will be raised for immigrant legal aid.
The goal is not to repress what the heart is stirred to express (hopes, losses, despairs, longings) but rather to hold it all in love....and then release.
I think it's time to forgive all the Sarahs. Heck, not just forgive them -- thank them! They were doing the best they could. They had lessons to learn! I couldn't be who I am today without them. Wait, this is sounding like an acceptance speech . . . "I'd like to thank the academy,… Continue reading I’d like to thank all the Sarahs . . .
I hereby surrender and accept my current reality as it stands--in its messy glory, its ecstatic uncertainty.
Are you asking yourself this question?
"Sometimes the bee stings, and sometimes it makes honey." Z, age 4, tiny Buddha (and recently stung by a bee for the first time.) Watercolor pencil, pen and water
"Pain is a great teacher, but light is a greater one." - Magldala Ramirez, Ancient Wisdom of the Feminine podcast.
Imagine a parental stress continuum. At one end is the mythical and totally unatainable smiling happy family lounging on a white couch. At the other end: stress-eating peanut butter out of the jar at midnight.
What would you bring if you had to evacuate? Would it fit in one yellow crate? I think you would be surprised to discover that it would.