thought-2123970_1280

the soul's greatest threat: ADD

This little disease epidemic is popping up everywhere. In disgruntled hearts. In ungrateful mouths. In slanderous conversations. In the broken public education system. Beneath the broken hearts of Christians.  On job (dis)satisfaction surveys. At restaurants. In my soul. ADD: Attentive to Deficit Disorder. I first learned about ADD–though not known by that name yet, well, because I didn’t invent it yet :)–when getting my Master’s in Cultural and Linguistic Diversity in Education. For students in our system who are emerging bilinguals, it is common to focus on what they lack (a foundation in English, parents who speak English, comfort navigating the American schooling principles, background Read More

thought-2123970_1280

the soul’s greatest threat: ADD

This little disease epidemic is popping up everywhere. In disgruntled hearts. In ungrateful mouths. In slanderous conversations. In the broken public education system. Beneath the broken hearts of Christians.  On job (dis)satisfaction surveys. At restaurants. In my soul. ADD: Attentive to Deficit Disorder. I first learned about ADD–though not known by that name yet, well, because I didn’t invent it yet :)–when getting my Master’s in Cultural and Linguistic Diversity in Education. For students in our system who are emerging bilinguals, it is common to focus on what they lack (a foundation in English, parents who speak English, comfort navigating the American schooling principles, background Read More

thought-2123970_1280

present. thankful.

Early in the lonely darkness, I wake this morning with a heavy heart; how can the absence of Something, Someone weigh so much? As in yoga, I will not fight this pain’s strain; I will lean into it. I will stay present in the sorrow, to the grief. And even in this, I will give thanks. Yes because it’s a holiday, but also because it’s a holy way. Though I don’t understand it fully nor embrace it completely, grace is more powerful than condemnation, compassion truer than judgment. The Divine, at the deepest core and at the wildest edges, is Love. For Read More

thought-2123970_1280

towards peace

Dork. Dork. 1000 silent sobs reverberate within those 4 letters. One word carries with it the sound of home. In the safe echo of my sister’s pet greeting, I unraveled. As I reflect, I realize I have been unraveling for a while. I just didn’t bother stopping–or stopping long enough–to pay attention to it. But as I confessed to my sister–the remnant of home–that I was feeling depressed, a moon’s tide was released. Waves of grief washed over me. I miss my Mom. I miss my Dad. I witness them everywhere. In my dreams, on my commute, in my laughter, Read More

thought-2123970_1280

"rain, heartbeats of rain"

Between grief and nothing, I will take grief.–William Faulkner As is my nature, I have been thinking a lot about the nature of grief while grieving. For the past year since my Mom passed the past three years in the wake of both of my parent’s deaths, I have lived a million distinct deaths–some catastrophic and paralyzing me in my bed, some miniscule and annoying like a fly at night in the heat of West Virginia. But always grief Grief is there, a companion in my life–more than a stage or an emotion. Sometimes he sits on my chest and tells me Read More

thought-2123970_1280

“rain, heartbeats of rain”

Between grief and nothing, I will take grief.–William Faulkner As is my nature, I have been thinking a lot about the nature of grief while grieving. For the past year since my Mom passed the past three years in the wake of both of my parent’s deaths, I have lived a million distinct deaths–some catastrophic and paralyzing me in my bed, some miniscule and annoying like a fly at night in the heat of West Virginia. But always grief Grief is there, a companion in my life–more than a stage or an emotion. Sometimes he sits on my chest and tells me Read More

thought-2123970_1280

seasons of nature. seasons of grief.

Spring is in the air, and with it all the glorious resurrections of the grass, the trees, the flowers. The apparent death of winter is losing its grip on the earth as new life emerges in laughing light. This revolving pattern of transitions is one of my favorite things about Creation. Through the seasons, I am reminded that though today is blanketed in blistering, smothering heat, there will come a day when the gentle breeze will caress the golden strands of aspens. Though today the earth is cold and silent, buried beneath polluted ice, there will come a day when the Read More

thought-2123970_1280

with Grief. through Grief.

When my Dad died, the grief was a wind. After an excruciating long Alzheimer’s-harrowed process of watching him die before he died, his final physical death was a gentle release of all the collective breaths those who loved him had been holding for so long. I mourned, but it was in the arms of the graceful and gentle wind, rocking the boughs of my weeping-willow-tree-heart. When my Mom died, the grief was a hurricane. The power went out, the roof blew off, the branches broke through the windows of my battered and ill-prepared heart. And so I did what anyone Read More