Journey

Befriending Fear

Befriending Fear

“How are you?" I call tentatively.

 The room is dark. A single bulb hangs from the ceiling. I reach my hand out, waving it in the dark till it touches the string; and I pull. The click frightens us both in the silence. I see cobwebs hanging from the rafters. The light is weak against the thick gloom gathered in the corners, but it's there. A small circle of yellow on the dirt floor.

Sometimes when we move toward what our souls are longing for, we get afraid. Afraid of what others will think. Afraid of failing. Afraid that there isn’t really a way to make what we long to do happen.  

Fierce Gratitude

Fierce Gratitude

After my friend died unexpectedly from a stroke 15 months ago, I wandered through my days in a fog, not able to focus on the tasks in front of me.

If I wondered if she’d been trapped inside her body unable to speak to us for that week, I’d think of her as a prisoner, stuck there in the hospital bed while her worried friends commented about the swelling in her legs, a phantom movement in her hand, her yellow nail polish.