Your Ability to Feel: An Empathetic Approach to Toxicity.
Sometimes the nourishing path is a difficult one. And in these moments, each of us is supported, far more than we can sometimes see or feel.
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Bretton Keating
Feeling Home: The Myth of Caretaker Boundaries, and Reasons to Stay.
I’m at home many places, a byproduct of constantly moving, but the home feeling, it’s something else, maybe it’s more like love.
Creativity Is Life Itself.
I will always have the drive to create, not because it’s an external action that I’m addicted to performing, but because creativity is who I am.
Life Is Short: Hang Love on the Line.
A light that flickers, baring down to the soul, is contagious. Around that kind of energy, I can find the tiniest, seemingly mundane details of everyday life entirely fascinating.
The Lost Boys: Seeing Our Own Solitary Reflection.
We play imaginary games of hard-to-get, not realizing that when no one else is aware that any such thing is happening, it becomes not so much a game as a fantasy with which we've entangled our minds. Losing ourselves even deeper in the process. We end the relationship before it’s begun. We stay ...
To the Magically Unrooted: Reasons We Belong.
You may feel like an outsider here, yet you are the one at whom children smile, with a knowing glance. You’re part of their world.
Please Don’t Call Me When You’re Lonely.
Birds are smarter than they look, you know. They used to say that about me. So you know that dream, the one you’ve been telling me about for years? Please fly away and go do it already. Because nobody else will ask you to, and the only person waiting is yourself. And when you do it, I hope it ...
Dancing Across Loneliness: The End of Beginnings and the Hope of Goodbye.
In the buttery, iron taste of the aftermath, food will not fill me. A pill will not clear me of this, and sleep does not always lend itself to rest. The frothing surface of lingering promises shields the unknown sediment, sinking below. Every lie we tell ourselves haunts me, ripping apart my heart.
We Are All Alone.
Recently, I have personally come to know several single mothers. I hold great reverence for each of them, as I cannot imagine being solely responsible for the upbringing of another human. Yet they have done so, beautifully. Every time I hear another one of these ladies’ stories, I stand in awe ...
Peacemaker, You Have All The Love In The World.
Why do I hold my friends and family members at arm’s length, keeping them just far enough from both the brightness of my heart’s beating pulse as well as the sharp flashes of true, human emotion I at times feel toward and around them?