Uncaptured
At one special place, if I look to the right at exactly the right moment, I see a long straight sideroad made of dirt. It slopes down easy…
Tag: dreams
Hard things
I just purged my house, nesting, frenetically sorting through every closet, every drawer, to remove all that we don’t need. And now I am buying more.
The key to communication found MIA
So last night I had a dream in which Ryan was talking to a group of men about the challenges of communicating with women. He was acting out the roles, the way he can be toodling along in a conversation and then suddenly blind-sided by a sharp question from his wife. POW! Ryan staggered around […]
Colors
His name was Heinz Gaugel. He died in 2000 at 73 years of age, but I met him five years before that, when I was an innocent and starry-eyed twelve. When I entered the studio, he sat with his back to me. A canvas road stretched away from him, with horses and buggies scattered along […]
Truth and chaff
I awoke one morning heavy, a weight of bad dreams pressing me into the mattress, the voice of the Accuser echoing in the room, hissing, taunting, blaming. His words were lies, all lies. I rose to shake them off, and yet— There was that small grain of truth. Satan is a coward and a cheat. […]
Morning
I awake in the darkness, my mind reaching desperately to remember the second thing—the second part, which made sense of the whole. If I give myself a moment it will come back to me. But it does not, and after a time I cannot recall the first part either, nor what it was part of, […]
On gardening and imperfection
Part A Confession: Almost I would give up writing on any issue I care about, for the way in which I am tested in that area immediately afterwards. I wrote about seeing work as play, and immediately began taking my own so seriously I could hardly stop to breathe. I wrote about grace, and started […]
Preschool training
Confession: All I wanted was to raise kids who were polite and well-mannered; intelligent kids who knew how to think. Well. *cough* They know how to think. You may well say it was a trifling goal, a sideline aspiration. (Most of mine are.) I agree with you, but I still wouldn’t have chosen this Regan-path […]