Okay. So it might one day happen that you’re rushing through the grocery store on a school night, somewhere on your hastily scratched list between fire-roasted tomatoes and PB&J fixins’, just rolling the cart and contemplating life and what kind of cereal to buy. And by you, of course, I …
be brave. love hard. dive into the cliche. (this life is too short)
This is me raw. No makeup, no attempt to pretty up. Just me, bare and real in the morning light. Sometimes I need to show up like this, to remember that I can. And today I’m not going to carefully craft a post, any more than I wanted to put …
Creating Beauty From the Wreckage
Making beauty from the wreckage.
Creating life from the unlivable.
Cause that’s what we do, babe, me and you and everyone like us
We make beauty out of the worst possible things.
An Open Letter In Celebration of ALL Women
women, womyn, womxn, girls, babes, shes, hers, mrs. ms. mx. femmes, thems, ladies, divas, queens, broads, witches, dames. For all the words and all the names you were given and all the ones you claimed and reclaimed and made up along the way to expand language to make space for …
You Are Not Too Much {remix}
To the one who grieves loudly, or for longer than people believe you should, or in ways others find uncomfortable or inconvenient or messy. YOU ARE NOT TOO MUCH. To the one who laughs at top volume and who always wears the clothes that feel the most like you, regardless …
Never Stop Making Stuff (a PSA for the discouraged artist)
Hey. You. This is your PSA to keep creating. Create and create and create and create. And put it out there. Share it with the world. Every last chance you get. Fuck that fear of being seen. Fuck that worry that people will think you’re too much. Fuck the way …
Creatures Built On A Foundation Of Want
We are creatures built on a foundation of want. And sometimes that wanting is nestled so deep it dare not show itself, for fear of being seen and known in a way that makes it too real to be denied. Sometimes that want becomes a small, hard kernel of longing …
Ways To Let A Story Be Born
Some nights it’s true, there just aren’t any words, no pretty ones anyway. None worth showing to the world. None that even seem worth the pages of your journal. Just self-indulgent scrawls that amount to nothing. Some nights the silence is too heavy to hear through. Some nights no matter …
You can wear red lipstick and still be feminist as fuck.
You can wear red lipstick and still be feminist as fuck. You can fall madly in love with your whole entire being, body and soul and still search for magical solutions for your undereye circles or your muffin top or your adult acne. You can be so solidly grounded in …
Terribly and beautifully and painfully alive.
“Are you okay, beauty?” “Not so much, but it’s really something I should not discuss because it should never have been in the first place. I’m sure karma and her friends are raining down upon my head. I deserve to battle alone…” No. That is a lie. A lie that …
You Are A Divine-Earth-Shaking-Revolutionary-Badass-Of-Epic-Proportions.
This week I got one of the most badass jobs in the world – I got invited to guest read the weekly Rebel Reading for my favorite-in-the-history-of-ever tarot card deck, Rebel Deck. Now – these ain’t your mama’s tarot cards, which means I got to dust off my ‘talks like a sailor” inner …
Your Story Is Waiting For You
How long have you been waiting to tell your story? Not a week (rarely a day) goes by when I don’t hear from someone out there in this wild world of ours, someone just like you. Someone with a regular, ordinary, mundane life. Someone with joy and bliss and heartache …
Believe Her: A poem for survivors (and those who love them)
This is a poem for the women violated, and for those who stand in support and love and solidarity. For partners, for lovers, for friends. For all those women harmed, and for all those who held and loved them in the aftermath. Maybe not perfectly, maybe not with unfailing grace, …
remember to breathe
I woke up this morning Slowly Reluctantly And this familiar heaviness settled into my being The weight of all things For which I hold responsibility And even those for which I am not Responsible But insist on claiming as weight As mine to carry Out of some Misplaced sense Of …
feather ( a poem about the ways we make meaning)
Today, when I went to my car To go meet my good friend for coffee And to visit another friend And her baby Who we hadn’t seen in quite a while I looked down to see a feather resting on the handle of the door A little feather Tiny, really. …
For the ones who write
This is a love letter for the writers… Hey you. You who writes. You who keeps on writing. You who pours out your hurt and your joy and your bliss and your ways of being and existing and understanding onto page and screen. You who hits the submit button again …
Return To Yourself – Again and Again
This is my first morning without the kids this week, and predictably, I woke from my internal 6am alarm clock. But today I allowed myself the sweet grace of a little more sleep, still smiling the smile I went to bed with last night after a much needed evening with …
Over and over and over again
I set the alarm last night thinking I probably wouldn’t to it. Up too late writing wild. Too tired. I don’t usually follow through. The alarm was a half-assed thought, really. Another way, maybe, to feel badly about myself for not doing what I say I will do. But when …
What is the most powerful question?
My entire last decade hinged on the power of one question alone. The answer, when I lived into it, dismantled all I had known and transported me into a life that looked nothing like the one I expected to be living. No doubt, questions can hold a tremendous sort of …
{a love that rocked the whole damn world}
Last night The earth started shaking Where she lives Though it was steady here literally If not metaphorically Or steady enough At least That I didn’t feel movement In the ground Beneath my own feet Thought it must have moved I think At least the smallest imperceptible amount. Because if …
the week the unfolding began
This was the week of the whole and the holy. The week of wine in mason jars and the tears that hit so hard I became salt water for a while and as the night grew deeper I pulled a chair into the kitchen to reach high on tip toes …
the key that unlocks oceans.
{this piece came out, raw and ready. no clean up or cool down. just the words that needed to be born, right then. the kind of freewriting that shoots out, whole and complete. stream of conscious, unconcerned with structure or style. just knowing that the words must be released, exactly …
The bravery it takes to write your story has the power to save lives.
Most of you probably noticed that June was pride month. If you weren’t already aware, the plethora of rainbows on social media probably gave it away. Around the world us gays are got the chance to celebrate being..well….really gay (in the very best way). There were photos of parties and …
I would swim the sea for to ease your pain {a love letter for the weariest souls}
{Listen to the music that inspired this post while you read} “If I needed you. Would you come to me? Would you come to me for to ease my pain? If you needed me, I would come to you. I would swim the sea for to ease your pain.” ~If I …