Sunday, December 23, 2018


Today was our Christmas.
Just the two of us.
He woke me up to see the snow falling...
didn't want me to miss it.
It is our first Christmas in our new home,
and it feels perfect.
Christmas day will be travel and chaos,
but today was ours.
Calm.  Cozy.  Quiet.
I did a live video chat with my mom and my sister,
so we could share the fun of opening gifts.
I cried as I slowly unwrapped a gift from my mother.
I'm so far away from my family
and time is slipping through our fingers.
But I keep them close.
Homesickness is just an expression of Love,
so it added to the Gentleness of the day.
Tonight... more snow.
A white Christmas is Perfection.

Monday, December 10, 2018

What Is Left

I woke and met a stranger in my brain.
The life I had once found shelter in, collapsed
The Who of Me was stripped, raw and bare

Life has a way of  eventually exposing us all, doesn't it.
For most it may be a more gradual process.
I  certainly would have preferred a gentle evolution
but, someday, we all must learn to live with What Is Left.

This is Stroke Recovery for me -
sifting through what remains.
Trying to make it something meaningful,
even though I never would have chosen it.

Some days I find a certain grace in the remnants.

When Why's have no answer
they may then be translated into How's.

What Is Left leaves no hiding places.
There is no capacity for the counterfeit.
What feels raw and bare
is what is Real.

All of my Doing was rendered into Being.
And although I do not yet know how to Be,
there is a certain freedom in being fragmented.

So maybe, after all
What Is Left, is what is Meant To Be.


My thoughts are like fluttering birds
who, every once in awhile, land together.
But the moment I move towards them,
they take to the air again.

My mind is working overtime,
chasing birds.

Tuesday, November 27, 2018


This is me... having a stroke.

Except, at this particular moment, no one knew I was having a stroke.
Because that just isn't a common thing for 36 yr. olds.
This was the period at the end of a sentence.
Everything that had come before was over now.
This was the moment "before" and "after" became sharply separated.

The doctor came in and drew a picture that looked like a torn water hose.
A Vertebral Artery Dissection.
A flap-like tear in the inner lining of an artery in my neck,
where the blood was now pooling and forming a clot,
and blocking blood flow to my brain.
Later, part of that clot would break loose 
and cause more damage in the left hemisphere of my brain.
What can I say... it was a bad day.

There is so much more to the story...
and I'll do my best to tell it.
A little bit at a time...
you see, my brain doesn't quite work the way it used to.
But I'm still here.

I'm still here!

Coming Back

And so I've come back. 
This is the place where I wrote my way to healing once before. 
I've tried to write in other ways and places, but this is where it began, and it feels natural to pick up again where I left off. 
Except... everything is different now. 
My words are different... I am different. 
But maybe I can find my self again
by following the trail of bread crumbs that I leave in my own writing.
So I'm Back.