• self compassion

    what do you need?

      sometimes, i ask my son, in a far too annoyed tone “what do you need? today he turned around and asked me the same thing? what do you need?   i mean really, what do i need? i can have a day full of everything i want and still i am moody and gnawing on invisible bones. what do you need? i need space. a pause from my self and responsibilities. to listen to music and do nothing. to feel my own breath as my only company for a moment. to sip silently and expand into myself. to shake some of my resentment and bad tones from my shoulders.…

  • artjournaling,  creative practice

    creativity & slowing down

    this june, i signed up for a zillion classes. i thought i needed the creative push. maybe i did but i am thinking if i had to do it again, i would give myself a break. the honest truth is i can’t creatively keep up with the outside world. i don’t want to keep up. i don’t want the obligation to create. i just want to create but i don’t want to do it vacuum. i want to grow and explore my edges as an artist, i want to be a part of a larger conversation but i want to create for me. does that even make sense? so,  i…

  • self compassion,  writing


    These day feel slow and fast ticking. Like a collision of breathlessness and endless waiting. Waiting in the distance between spaces of who we will become. Waiting for Who I will become again and who I will be anew.    A small pile of weeks to keep me company. A small pile of worries to dissolve. To hide under. Unless. I take the time to face them like old friends, lean close and comfort them at my bones.  I cleave to this time as much as I wish it away. I want the new and the familiar all in one. I try not to be too excited but I can’t help…

  • self compassion,  writing

    the conversation

    this week I had one of the realist conversations of my life. You don’t need to know the particulars to know that it ended in tears, heart-felt stories shared, apologies and some very loose ends. the conversation, itself, was a major victory. the loose ends can be expected. loose ends should be expected. i know that we live in a world that wants a victory lap after everything. sometimes, all we have is a small wave from our heart. maybe, a tender voice inside, saying…”yes, this is where you are suppose to go. Thank you for showing up”.

  • Uncategorized

    the life i already eat/remaking the narrative

    “A story is a letter that the author writes to himself, to tell himself things that he would be unable to discover otherwise.” — Carlos Ruiz Zafón I write about gaps a lot but I rarely about jumping into one.there is always a veil that I put between myself and reality as if one were not the same. As if there was some magical force keeping me from me. There is none of those things. Just the refusal of my own self to come inside and claim what already belongs to me. I am tired of writing stories of longing. Longing has become an noose. An excuse. And I am…