Grateful for Art.

And mindful reflection.

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Evanston Canal, by the hospital

And quiet.

And breath.

And tears.

And laughter.

And color.

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J and C in Chinatown

And sound.

And eyes that see.

And ears that hear.

And the willingness to work through what I cannot see or hear,

yet,

or maybe ever.

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Safe doesn’t always mean pretty
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Strength from all over the place. Some boundaries too.
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No such thing as trapped. Not really.

Grateful for all that has led me here, right now.

Grateful for you and others on my path who may have caused wounds,

And scabs.

And scars.

And joy.

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My busy head. I have learned to like my head and its committee.

And grateful for my voice and for yours.

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One scar, of many.

This is my heart.

And this is my art.

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When I couldn’t sleep last night, this happened.

And we all have stuff with which to make art.

So grateful.

 

A Love Letter Redux to Juliette

The original letter I wrote to Juliette four years ago can be found here – “For Juliette: A Love Letter You’ll Hate (For Now)”. I write my daughters fairly often, but this one stands out and serves as a sort of unspoken grading tool for how I am doing as a mother. I give myself a “C” grade as a mother, but the important lesson here is that I don’t accept my own “C” grade. I trust the trustworthy people in my life instead. Continue reading “A Love Letter Redux to Juliette”

Little Girl Found, Kicking & Screaming

And once she learned to kick and scream, the monsters quieted down.

When she knew she was safe to stop kicking and screaming, the monsters left

forever.

She was left with some permanent scars that she saw as rich and beautiful, because they were perfect to her and not because they had to be, but because they just were.

The little girl healed and the woman flourished.

The little girl and the woman agreed to coexist as the caretakers of each other and providers of the ointment that would protect and honor her scars

forever.

Continue reading “Little Girl Found, Kicking & Screaming”