Breathing into grace: Random thoughts on self-care

Lately, I’ve had a lot of conversations about self-care.  I’ve been trying – hard - to revolutionize my whole idea of what self-care feels like, what it looks like, and how I feel about it.  This is work, people.  Hard work. Popular media would have us believe self-care is about treating ourselves: shopping, long baths... Continue Reading →

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The daily ritual of practice

Lately, I’ve been thinking about practice. I’m thinking about what we practice and what we don’t practice.  What we should practice, but don’t.  I’m thinking about the rhetoric around practice, and I’m thinking about how annoying practice can be. Typically, when we think about practice, we think about a specific talent or skill: musicians have... Continue Reading →

Autism feels like blue

April is Autism Awareness Month.  I work with and love many people with autism and their caregivers.  This poem is for them. Autism feels like blue Blue is mystery is ocean, is midnight, is forever, and darkness, and shining sky, blue is transparent glass and tastes like sadness sometimes but sounds like blueberries covering small... Continue Reading →

This is my zombie apocalypse

As I walk out of the department store dressing room, the poreless, skinless mannequins mock me with their necks. Their toothpick thighs and kneeless legs spring into cellulite-free life and kick, adding injury to insult as their handless arms block my path. This, I think, is my zombie apocalypse. I leap away, too late, as... Continue Reading →

Chain Mail

Chain Mail At Safeway, the boy stands with his mother in line. His pale blue polo shirt with something that looks like a squirrel embroidered on the left chest is stained with what might be chocolate milk. His hair is wild from a full day of learning, his shoe untied, his shirt untucked from his... Continue Reading →

Spaces for sunlight

I wrote this poem back in 2016, but these words have been going through my head for days: ...holding breath is not the way to breathe. Tensing muscles is not the way to stretch, and crumbling is not always breaking but a way of coming together with a space for sunlight... I went into yoga... Continue Reading →

The Real Yoga: Powerful and known

I got glasses when I was around 10 years old.  I didn’t know I needed glasses, but when I left the eye doctor with those glasses, I was amazed: who knew trees had leaves you could see?  I could read signs!  Everything was brighter, more detailed, and beautiful. At 10, I was already dancing (ballet)... Continue Reading →

52 Cards: A Poem in 5 Acts

I. When I realize it’s been months since I wrote a poem I wonder why I’ve had nothing to say. Wonder why words do not burn my skull, why feelings do not pour from my fingers, why rage no longer screams my veins until I drip words- small, heavy, metallic - from artery to floor.... Continue Reading →

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