When do we share depth?
The inspiration for the blog came from a conversation I had with the program director of my masters program.
After meeting me and speaking to me briefly they acknowledged, “You’re an obvious candidate for this cohort, but I’ve got to tell you…I’m worried you think…
A Series Interruption
I woke up to a nagging numbness in my wrists and didn’t think anything of it.
The numbness got worse, and I couldn’t feel my arms. Then my ankles. Finally, my throat.
I thought it was restlessness, a sign of stress so I opened the door to…
A Series Continuation
I have spent too many hours of my life in meetings.
Some though, stand out to me vividly regardless of how much time passes.
A Series Introduction
I want to start this blog with a story.
Picture a children’s gym open for free play. There is an open room of gymnastics equipment, and it’s full of preschool aged kids running and climbing and their caregivers on the sidelines.
I am one of those caregivers.
A freedom I have experienced in not working full time for an institution is space to share more of my writing publicly.
I started blogging just about two and a half years ago, but recently I’ve been blocked.
Not blocked from writing, but blocked from writing for outside audiences.
I’m not an easy crier,
surrender is hard for me;
surrender to myself especially.
when emotions whirl and hover
clenching moves from my
I hear myself acknowledge
my fear of crying
somewhere open to others,
in places where my feelings
need soft padding
Steering away, and back
littler than you,
I think without explaining
as the edge of your lip curls.
before you cry
your distress reaches me;
I think without explaining.
magnets repel and attract,
create distance and remove it,
that some materials
you pull me close,