Monthly Archives: September 2011



sometimes bravery isn’t bravado, or machismo, or feats of Herculean strength.


sometimes bravery is doing what everyone said you can’t, doing what you love no matter the hecklers and naysayers.

leaning into the unknown is brave.


thank you note….


dear mother and father god,

it feels odd writing to you, like i’d write to a friend who lives in a distant city, but i’m trying to view you in that manner.
i’ve taken issue, for some time, with how people do such terrible wrong in your name. so much issue that it’s pushed me away from most of your places of worship.

my most favorite place to commune with your universal spirit is sitting in my bed. i light incense and candles, assume a quasi-good lotus position and then i just breathe. i take measured breaths in and out, and i seek you, in the many different facets in which you enter my life.

how my youngest child laughs so much and so often, reminding me of joy, peace and harmony. and reminding me that no matter how heavy situations feel, there is still joy to be found.

how the next youngest is growing out of her shell daily. she has always been the most introverted of my children, and by giving her room to be herself, and to understand who she is and allowing her to be comfortable in her own skin, reminds me that i have to allow myself that same opportunity.

how my middle child, my youngest son, is so smart, and so easily bored. how video games hone his hand/eye coordination, but i worry that they stunt his social skills. but again he’s just brilliant in my eyes. his quirky and ecentric nature, and makes him so happy when he is present in his element. this reminds me to remain present in hthe myriad of moments that present themselves to me everyday, seeming choices to either be happy, or not.

how my eldest son, so steadfast, surefooted and strong, is firmly rooted in the firmament of the earth. the most steady of my children, yet nearly grown himself, i can always count on him to make me laugh, even when he’s helping me to clean the kitchen or mop the floors. his playful, yet steady spirit, reminds me to laugh, even when there is work to do… and even better, laugh while i’m working.

how my oldest child, my oldest daughter has a gypsy heart (stole a piece of my own, i think she did), and a wild spirit and never says no to anything. never have i seen her let anything get in her way, particularly if it’s something she’s set her mind upon doing. i’m reminded of perseverance and the benefits of struggle, and the joys of a gypsy heart.

from the mister, i’ve learned that anyone can change, and that the change can be real and true and meaningful. that love knows no bounds when it’s soulful.

lately, when things have seemed really hard, it’s as though i’m finding love notes from you scattered throughout my day. a word or a phrase that resonate with thoughts in my head, or worries and concerns that are weighing me down. reminders to allow myself to feel the joy that is in my life, the laughter, the experiences that are woven into the cloth of my day.

so mother/father god, this letter was a small thank you note. thank you for the reminders you give me daily, both directly, through my family, and indirectly, through the cloth that wraps itself around me every day.