Last week – a week I rather dramatically called ‘Do or Die Week’ – I sent the following email to my list of subscribers on the topic of creative resistance. More specifically, my own creative resistance. I was in a space that held both deep doubt and fierce faith. It …
Dearest, I know how hard it is has been. I know how you’ve been stumbling in the darkness, feeling the weight of that missing spark, that essential aliveness. Unable to hear the voice of truth – so long drowned out by responsibilities and obligations and fear and trauma and grief. …
this is an ode to the broken-hearted. for those early days when the ground is unsteady and you are still measuring your worth by their absence instead of the staggering truth of your own presence. this is a poem to hold you until you are steady enough to hold yourself. …
Dear 2017. It may be a little forward of me, and maybe I’m jumping the gun a little, but what the hell – I kind of dig you. Maybe it is premature, I’ve known you less than a day and should probably play it cooler at first. But you …
None of those who have loved me have trusted the white hot wolf in me. Oh, they have claimed to. Perhaps, in the beginning, they have wanted to believe that it was so. Wanted to think that that they were capable of such a love. But always, in the end, …
someday you will come across a poem and something about it will speak truth even if you don’t immediately know why take note you will need to keep this poem tucked in your back pocket. so when you find a poem like this -and you’ll know by the chill that …
This past week – hell, this past month – it has been intense. Everyone I’ve talked to says the same. Of the deep sadness and the storm of anger and the descent to the underworld. Of the tears and the anger and the heartbreak and the grief. I don’t know if …
A few years ago I launched a writing course that exceeded all my expectations. Not because it made me rich or famous — but because of what happened inside the space created for the participants. What happened when those wild hearted souls gathered together was nothing short of magic. Writers …
It has been one month since the massacre at Pulse Orlando. One month that has seen more death and devastation and violence than I can possible process. One month of communities ripped apart, here and abroad. One month of divisiveness and unimaginable pain and the rumblings of revolution. Perhaps it …
Darling, it has been such a long journey. An epic quest. No such thing as stillness and complacency for you. There never has been, has there? No. You’ve always been made for bigger things that that. You know it’s true. You never were like the rest of them. The ones …
Yesterday, I was reading about the recent anti-LGBTQ legislation passed in North Carolina. As an out, vocal and proud Queer woman – this news cuts me to my soul. As much as I would love to say I’ve reached a place where it can’t touch me, that would be a …
{listen to this post as you read} We start out on this earth wild. Unfettered. Free. You did. I did. We all do. We speak our needs. Cry our hurt. Kick and scream our anger. Sing our joy. Do you remember it? Do you feel that tingle way down low …
You are here. You are here. Even though everything smells like love and loss and burning. Start with this. You are here and it hurts. It hurts because of all you’ve lost. Your heart is a 3am siren, driving through that sucker punch bruise of a night sky. Never a …
I fell in love, despite my best efforts not to, with someone I knew could never be with me the way I want, no matter how much he wanted to. I feel like an idiot when I admit it, when I hear myself say out loud. We fell in love. …
{tomorrow, in the moments just before midnight, I will turn 40. And tonight, as is my practice on the eve of my birth, I spend the night with myself and my candles and my whiskey and my words. Marking the passage in the way that is most true for me …
This is for the ones who howl at the moon. This is for the ones who sing the song of the wolves. This is for those that hear and heed the call. For the wild ones. The untamable. The unashamed. This is for the truth seekers, the wisdom speakers. Those who …
Calling all the reluctant creatives. The inhibited artists. Those who only dance in the dark and secret corners when nobody is watching. You’ve got canvas and paint stacked in the closet and an entire novel bursting at the seams of your soul. You burn with the need to make things, …
Come here. I’m going to tell you a secret. It’s okay to hate today. To hell with all that positive thinking mumbo jumbo. Toss your gratitude journal to the side, just for now. It’s okay to wallow. It’s okay to feel like PMS and Mercury Retrograde and your hour and …
I like my wine in old mason jars and my whiskey poured over ice. Is it the same for you as it is for me, does the music hold the key to all your memories? I surround myself with green and growing things here in the desert to remind me of …
You have a story. A burning story. It lives in your fingertips. In your kiss. In the spaces where no words will ever be quite enough. It shivers just beneath your skin. It travels electric from the earth up your spine and spins out into the heavens. A cyclone of …
Dear you. I see you, turning on the shower and standing under the hot spray, hoping that waterfall of sound is enough to muffle the signs of your tears from the children outside. I see you, holding up the weight of the world and trying so very hard and knowing, …
I am Jeanette. Daughter of Doreen Granddaughter of Charlotte Great Granddaughter of Alice. Mother of Julianna Amelie Grace and Isabella Charlotte Rose This is my motherline. I was mothered in a way that gave me freedom, and voice, and a path of my own. I was mothered to see good, …
Dear love, It can be said that we are built by many things. Biology and lineage. Grit and moonlight and ocean stone. By fire and water and air. By the lessons of the grandmothers and the pounding of blood through veins and the very first break. The way it felt …
“Life is complicated. I am tired of hiding.” “Why are you hiding?” “Because I’m ‘too much’ girl” “Oh. I know that story. All too well.” “I just had a long distance lover dump me because I’m too much. And it hurts. Fuck it. No more.” +++++ Listen to me. Right …
‘You’ve got millions of worlds of words inside you’ she said. ‘But what am I to do if I can’t ever get them out?’ It’s true. I am haunted by that question. The words live in me always. Tumble all over each other inside and out. There are voice memos …
