at dusk
cartwheels on the grass
sister teaching sister
with ubuntu
the crunch
of dried autumn leaves
fading red sun shimmers
on the river
pink cheeks
hair tumbling wildly
we watch our breath appear
on the exhale
moments
woven together
with great laughter and love
in autumn bliss
My things arrived today in a box from an address and handwriting I didn’t recognize. (funny that) A shirt I didn’t know he had, another shirt that holds fond memories, and the book, “Being Peace”. (and indeed I am) Remembering the good and letting the rest dissolve. Letting go. Wishing goodness. Being peace.
In this week’s unscripted audio love note, I discuss embracing mystery and getting paid, being and feeling supported by my Patreon folx and creating a container for my work
His anger is not your fault. His abuse is not your fault. His violence is not your fault. His lies are not your fault. His depression is not your fault. His avoidance is not your fault. His guilt is not your fault. It’s all his: His life, his work, his choices. (You have your own.)…
blame is a sour boar piercing the heart with fierce tusks of shame creation craves compassion and the flickering love dance of a gentle heart
This morning, I led my second writing workshop at a local homeless shelter. Before I arrived, I chose the following prompt: In the silence I understand… We do 20 minutes of free writing and then share. I found it interesting that one of the women I was working with could hear but didn’t speak. I…