So many times, we're told
that we are the writers
of our future, 
but after some reflection...
I think we're most likely...not. 

Oh, we like to imagine 
we have a little control - 
What shall I eat?
what shall I wear?
and even...
Who shall I marry?

But then, realization
dawns - a foggy sunrise.  
We cannot control  
whether our very next 
breath will arrive. 

It is automatic, and
we were not given
the keys to that ignition. 

So I think...
in the big picture,
our imagined control
is just to placate us.  

it can be very freeing
to realize you are 
a character in the story,
and not the author. 

It is especially 
when you summarily 
that your particular
author is a best-seller, 
and clearly,
already has the plot 
all figured out!

Thank you for joining me on my 28 day birthday month celebration. It has been a challenge, but also a unique experience, and I'm pleased with myself for completing it. Thank you also for all your kind words and encouragement...they have made it all feel extra special. 🙂 


I am the opposite of "self-help" - 
I am here to say that you cannot
do it on your own.

You are not strong enough, 
or powerful enough, 
or even really smart enough.

Not you. Not in your own
So I wonder why - 
there are so many self-help
books that essentially
repeat the same mantra.
You. You. You.
When it's never been you
it's always been

Who do you put your trust in?
From where do you get 
your inner power?

If it's you, then,
oh dear, how fallible.

If it's Darkness, then
oh my, how temporary.

if it's the Light of the world, then
Oh yes, how powerful. 

Direct My Path

We wander through the woods
of our lives,
pulling away branches,
and getting caught in the

It is a long road.
A rough road.
And then, a clearing up ahead.
We breathe the sweet nectar
of the open field,
feel the sunshine, 
and cooling breeze.
It feels like heaven. 

But the dark woods draw us back,
and soon we find ourselves,
and bruised.

All the while, 
the Lord goes before us, 
clearing the path,
absorbing the blows, 
and wishing 
we would only take His hand,
so He could lead us to
the next clearing, and
the path of His design. 

Even so, He walks ahead.
Never forsaking us 
and our chosen pathway.
Even when He knows His is easier, 
He allows us to choose.

And then He clears the way. 

Happy Birthday to me, and my dear friend Olivia, and all the other souls who celebrate their arrival on this earth today. 
We made it. Keep walking the path, the destination is more beautiful than we can possibly imagine. 

A Spinning Wheel

Life right now -
feels like a spinning wheel
that someone wound up -
but forgot to stop. 

Time is racing faster
than my thoughts.
The year has barely begun,
but is scheduled down 
to the near-end. 

When do we breathe?
Between the cracks?
Do we rise up, gasp for air,
and then get pulled back under?

Is this what Life is truly meant to be?
Where is the "stop" level...
and how can I pull it? 

This title could have been, "8 days before covid shutdown" but I didn't know it at the time. Speaking for only myself, as someone who has remained relatively healthy this entire time, when people ask how I've coped with the complete stop and pause of everything that I once knew - I think back to this moment, and this girl, and I remember how overwhelmed and helpless she was feeling, and how this time of complete reset has been something both completely unexpected and also an opportunity for an overhaul of what was once important. 

New Life

At first glance, you would not
consider furniture 
as an item needing rescue.
But it is. They do.

Cooped up, buried under
garbage and piles of
paper and humidity -
A table, a chair, sits - 
waiting to be remembered
to be cared for - to be clean.

It is made from material 
that was once alive -
and after being plucked
from purgatory,
and given a new home, 
it almost audibly sighs
with relief and gratitude 
for the gift of new life. 

Useful, Hopeful, and Wanted,
but most of all, 
in every sense of the word. 


Why do we obsess over 
that which scares us?
To regain power? Control? 
"We never had control." 
We always have the power. 
Fear is what we allow it to be.
Whether it's the dark, 
or spiders, 
or a large, scaly lizard
that ROARS. 

Dedicated to my first best friend and cousin, who shares my love of Dinosaurs, and so many childhood memories, and whose birthday is today. 
Happy Birthday, Lauren!  

The Walls of Jericho

Those who lie build walls - 
they carefully construct
their version of truth. 
They shellack the stones
and settle inside their
forts of deception. 


A still, small voice says, 
And then another voice
And another. 

Until finally, 
the noise is so 
deafening -
that the walls come
crumbling down.
Jericho is taken,
once again. 

Written last year after the inspirational moment a local woman went public with her decades long pain. 

Location, Location, Location

Where we are born
is not who we are
But it shapes
who we become.
Whether we embrace
or attempt to escape -
there is no undoing
the circumstance
of birth.
We are plopped on this earth,
exactly where 
we are supposed to land -
in order for us to become,
who we are meant to be.
The reality of location
and the fantasy of aspiration. 


It takes courage to self-examine -
and strength to face when 
we were wrong.
This should not be
a foreign feeling - 
it should be our every day norm. 
So much of life is running,
and we never take a step.
whatever it takes,
But victory can be found
when we sit very still
and hold a mirror to our faces
leads to self-realization 
and to freedom of self. 

Rewriting History

When one sets about 
              to rewrite history,
the BIGGEST and best 
piece of advice I can share....
is make sure you 
send the new drafts 
to those who lived the events 
with you.
It makes for some 
very awkward glances. 

Thumbing through my poetry journal, this was written exactly one year ago today. A lot of my early work was much more focused on anger and hurt, and was written without editing. It was just whatever I thought in the moment and put on the page, then closed when the thought stopped. 

I'm pleased to share that this particular method of coping has helped me so, so much. Obviously, none of these "poems" rhyme, they are just words arranged on a page in an artistic help me think through and take what I feel and bring it out of me, and onto the page. 

I never imagined that they would even be intelligible, and I certainly never thought I'd share them, but I've seen a real growth, and I think it's important to share, especially if someone else decides to try it, and it helps them too.