HeartStrung

Hope made visible In the tiny buds of spring Giving us new life

#1 Walking beside you small fingers entwined with mine my heart overflows #2 Trusting the process I turn my face toward the sun and begin again

Dear Body,  I am writing you this letter because there are so many things I never say to you even though I speak to you daily. There are so many words that I have for you yet I feel like I don't even know where to start...but I suppose anywhere will do. You have carried me through just shy of 40 years of life so far. It's crazy to think about that much time having passed. In some ways I still feel far younger than that, but as you know, in other ways this body feels much much older. I spend so much time hating on you, I know. And I know it isn't fair. You put up with so much abuse from the way I constantly run into things to the way other people comment on your existence...it is so incredibly cruel of me to add my own hurtful comments on top. But I promise you, I'm trying to change this. Really, I am.  We've been through so much together and despite the really bad years we've had recently, you've continued to carry us both forward, making ...

November and November memories. That is what the harvest brings. For me this means thoughts of Kansas, of cousins, of candy corns and love. When I was growing up we went to Kansas for the harvest. My grandparents were farmers. They grew wheat. They had cows and chickens. And a big family. We would gather on the farm every November, children spilling from every room. The men would sit in the living room talking politics with their deep voices. The women populated the kitchen and dining room, preparing all of the food. The children ran from one room to another chasing each other or hiding from each other, out through the plant-filled sun room, through the sliding back door into the yard and around the house only to come running back in through the front door. Sometimes a few of us would go for long walks around the property. We climbed on hay bales and fed stray cats and hunted for animal bones in the trees that lined the edges of the street. We'd touch the electr...

I’m sitting on her bed, leaned back against a pillow with my legs tucked up near me. She is telling me about friendship and my heart is breaking open. Words tumble from her mouth in a flood of breath and I think,  I don’t know how to help. Memories of my youth fill my head along with my sisters’ voice. Just this summer, when she visited, she sat on my couch and talked about growing up without friends. I saw. Being only a year younger, I remember…yet somehow the depth, the severity, escaped me then. I was so busy following people around, pretending that I was more outgoing, more comfortable, more of everything I wasn’t, to notice how deep my sisters’ pain was. My mom must have cried a lot , I think now. There I was, a world of trouble and anger and rebellion, so self-absorbed and trying to find my own way. And there was my sister, brilliant and kind, but a type of lonely that few understand. The world can be so cruel. My daughter is beautiful. She excels in her classes. She...

This has been a big year for me so far, but I've failed to keep up my blog, so let's catch up, shall we? Most of you probably already know that I started a business in January, selling my hand made goods. It's growing slowly, and I'm okay with that. It has given me at least a small sense of purpose which is so helpful for my mental health. Many of you also already know that I had an article published in a magazine. Being published has been a long time dream of mine and it felt incredible to have the opportunity.              (My article was published in the April issue of Holl & Lane magazine.) Now for the stuff most of you don't know: I had decided to take some time off from going to doctor's offices at the beginning of this year. But during the last days of December, a rather large, ominous looking mass was discovered and all the doctor-y people got up in a tizzy and had me running around to a bunch of different locations, getting ult...

I wrote this piece last year but wasn't brave enough to publish it at the time.  As nervous as it makes me, it feels important to me that I publish this piece now with this reminder: You Are Not Alone It will pass. I promise. Keep Going. And please, if you are feeling suicidal, tell someone. Reach out for help. You are Important. You matter. Suicide Prevention Hotline: 1-800-273-8255 suicidepreventionlifeline.org I want so badly to write about depression right now because that's where I'm at but it's hard. It's hard to admit that I'm depressed. It's hard to explain why  I'm depressed and everyone always wants to know why. It's hard to trust that people will listen or that they won't try to fix  me or fix  the situation or correct all of my "wrong" thoughts, or tell me to "just be positive." It's hard to be vulnerable like this when I'm already at my most vulnerable... But here we are. I want ...