How many times have you done what’s expected (or accepted)? Sacrificed your own wants and needs in order to stay safe, to avoid standing out, to take care of everyone but yourself? How many times have you surrendered your own authenticity?

full disclosure: i’ve wanted to write a book my entire life.

i literally have pages and pages, notebooks and notebooks, filled with words that were simply-and-always labeled my story. going way back to my elementary school days, most of them residing in storage bins in italy.

words thrown on a page
scattered and diverse
my mind racing
faster than my body
can keep up

empty rooms
and cluttered hallways
whispered instructions
and unspoken apologies

sketches, then illustrations
poetry and color
right fits
wanderings
experience and thirst

my headaches
that beautiful noise
allowing me to realize
what’s most important

my work
my sons
my true partner

a need for moxie
rest, recuperation
while wintering

unfiltered magic
raw radiance
harmony

 
 
 
 

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why does it rain hard
when we forget the umbrella
but shine bright
when we don’t?

why is the speech in
front of the mirror perfect
but the words all tangled up the
moment they need to be heard?

and why do we spend
precious time and energy
worrying about anything we
have ZERO control over?

missing my dad
so very much
right now

whenever things got weird
i could always count on him
to make it all better

just sitting alongside him
poking fun at life’s absurdities
laughing at his uncanny wit

he’d utter his perfectly-timed
“no shit” response and
i’d feel grounded once more

 
 
 
 

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