What I didn’t know was how much a heart can open in the midst of grief and fear. I didn’t know that no matter how hard I tried to anticipate these moments, nothing could prepare me for the outpouring of love we’ve received. I had no idea gratitude and grief were such close companions.
Presence. Every year, I choose a word to be my focal point. To guide and ground me through whatever life gives, and takes. I’ve done this for a decade. Long enough to know that all aspects of the word will be honed in on, the light and the dark. Life has a way of doing that, taking our intentions and lovingly developing a curriculum that will challenge and grow us in ways unexpected.
What if we ask and it doesn’t come? What if the way it comes isn’t how we wanted it? What if it’s not from who we want it? Or, even worse, the last person we want it from?
Asking is a form of surrender and that shit is scary. More than needing help itself.
“Quito se llama ‘La luz de America,’ he told me and I thought that it wouldn’t hurt so much. This place of water pouring and dripping down verdant valleys and soft, smooth rocks rising up from craters with lava lakes and palms and monos and oil.
“My love for you gives me wings. That is all. My love for you is a four leaf clover I carry in my back pocket when I need luck and guts. When…
One of my very first classes as a Freshman in college was called “Dialogue.” It was a required class where we read material like Martin Luther King Jr.’s “Letter from Birmingham Jail,”…