lost in transition

sometimes the absurdity of this place is laughable. our ritualistic relationship to money, our spiritual enslavement to our emotions, our escapist philosophies. . ….


shed the skin

old programs (-isms, habits, reactions, triggers) will not always go quietly. they intertwine with our routines, our beliefs, and our perceptions….


castles in disguise

this day will pass, whether you dreamed a little dream, drew up a plan, took a baby step toward a goal, did what you loved to do, spent time with whom you wanted to, followed through on those tiny impulses, built something with your hands, started into a new book from the thrift store, sang your own beautiful song. . ….


into the divide, wretched mortal

when we look at the various stories that play out in our days, some beginning even as we open our eyes in the morning, we may not ever become entirely aware of the unconscious means with which we keep ourselves down, subservient, empty, and angry….


to make you feel loved

i think it is exceedingly rare these days that we take the time to truly get to know how someone wants to be loved; how they prefer to be treated, acknowledged, let alone or kept company; how they would be heard, understood, and validated; how they want to be touched and embraced, or how they’ll be open to it when they feel safe….