writing

41 posts
2017: Ya Done

Year end wrap-ups before the end of the year?! That's for the overachievers. Or the regular achievers who can follow a calendar. Which, let's be honest, is usually me. But not this year. Lots of things have felt "usually me" but, well, "not me this year." This year, I've had a lot more tiny moments of being entirely unproductive. (More like feeling entirely unproductive since carrying a child, keeping said child alive,...

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What I Will Tell My Daughter About The Year She Was Born

There are a few TED talks about what we tell our daughters, something I think about all the time these days. I am grateful to not be the only one asking these questions that I don't have answers to.   In the year you born, I cried for so many things out of my control. I cried for Mosby court and Creighton, for John Marshall High School, and for the...

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My Undoing

UPDATE: I wrote this (obviously) pre-baby. Since writing this, we welcomed our first child, a daughter, into this beautiful and terrible world. All the feelings I express here -- the helplessness and the gratitude -- ring all the more true now. -- My daughter was due last Wednesday. Currently, it’s Saturday. The doctor claims that all systems are “a go," but for some reason, she’s pretty happy in her cocoon. She...

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SEE YA 2016

2016 is gone. And while no one is more ready to say goodbye to this year and face 2017 with hopeful anticipation, I'd be remiss if I didn't yet again number my joys from these past 12 months. Because we have to remember the good, to carry with us the moments and things that brought light into dark places. The old scriptures have many references to remembering. There's so much...

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nothing to do with it

Chris and I went on an enneagram retreat recently. It was two full days of white-knuckled self-awareness. Two full days of I'd rather pull the covers over my face and hide forever.  But after two days of total and complete denial, we relented because it's far easier to just be at truth with your self, than to try to keep writing your own perfect narrative of your own very less-than-perfect self....

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