Writing

30 things learned in my 30s

Yesterday I watched salmon attempting to swim upstream, launching their bodies out of the water and heaving themselves over the rapids, only to hit a boulder and be slapped back down. It reminded me of being in my 30s. Technically, I’m still in my 30s for a few more days. But staring down the big…

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Ozette Triangle Loop

I smelled it before I heard it, and I heard it before I saw it. Still miles from the water and beneath a canopy of trees, the scent reached me first: salt, and the sharp brine of seaweed. Then came the far-off white noise, faint at first but, as I grew closer, steadily separating into…

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The shift

[I just found this as a draft in a forgotten file. Without any edits, I thought I’d share it today.] ::::: I throw the car from sixth gear down to fourth; there is no time for fifth. The engine revs, then catches and begins to pull, once again able to accelerate up the incline. Forty…

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Witness

I once was dealt a major injustice. It was all I could think about, all I could talk about; the fact that this person did me so wrong and got away with it with seemingly no consequences ate me alive for years. Literally, for years. One day I was on a hike, raging at the…

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Yes, and…

It’s easy to think that creativity must equal utter originality; after all, this is how the world usually spins it to us. The ones known as “artists” are the ones who magically conjure up something entirely new seemingly out of thin air – which is why I never understood the whole Andy Warhol thing. So…

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The hem of the Lord

Last year, I took part in Lore Wilbert’s amazing Writing Mentorship program. She just announced that she’ll be hosting another round beginning March 8. As I reflect on 2018, which was for me a ferociously difficult year, I recognize this course as having been a pivotal part of my healing process, not to mention some…

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Something worthy of me

The recipe calls for a half cup of chopped red onion. I stand over the cutting board with the sharpest knife I could find in the drawer, carefully dicing layers of nested, tear-inducing rings. I do not like to cook. Years of living alone have made dinnertime mostly irrelevant, because to me, the intentional preparation…

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Writing and yoga

Over the past several months, I took part in Lore Wilbert’s Writing Mentorship course. If you don’t know Lore, well, me neither — at least not in person. But thanks to years of blog stalking, I’ve come to know her as a gorgeous writer: intentional, challenging, and smart as a whip. Our faith looks different…

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A spacious place

About a month ago, I stubbed my toe so mightily I broke it. This is not an unusual occurrence for me. I suppose I walk with a lot of force? And into things? Is there honestly a better explanation for why one frequently stubs toes? Last night, I was heading to the living room to…

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On violence and fear

I’ve been watching Ken Burns documentaries lately. On weeknights, I crawl into bed around 9:30, pull up Netflix, and find myself immersed in history I’ve never heard about — or if I have, it was likely back in elementary school and I’ve forgotten the details. I’m currently re-watching “The West,” a series I watched years…

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