Full. Real. Unfinished.

You miss the rhythm and the every-six-month assurance You miss the camaraderie and the feeling of belonging You miss the experience of being uplifted and knowing you have the truth You miss the surety of the answers You miss their familiar voices and music and the safety that no matter what, you should follow You miss communal emotion You miss it all. so. much. Here's to the lonely ones, a benediction just for you: May you feel the steady assurance of your beating heart and know the depth of your belonging May you be lifted through inspiration  and may you align with truth As you journey, may you find strength in soothing voices and always follow the music of your soul May you trust that your loneliness will guide you To the certainty of faith The vision of hope and the knowledge of love That your spirit may be whole once again Amen

Show us how to lead Tell us life still feels good Respect your body- fiercely Reverence your graying hair Share your stories of strength and struggle Remind us we're gonna be alright Tell us you believe in us Tell us we're doing it well Show us how to trust ourselves Model how to rise Remind us of our wisdom Remember how you felt back when Trust in your abilities and gifts Step up on the mantle We're famished for your guidance Lead us Please

The strings of your sweater fall between my fingers.  My nose moves furiously from spot to spot- hoping to get a tiny scent of you.  My heart sinks.  It's been too long.  For five months, the sweater has been hanging with all my clothes.  So now it smells like me.  Damn it. Why didn't I box it up air-tight?  Why didn't I put it in a shrink-wrapped case so it could forever be embedded with you? Just one little scent and I'd be there: in your house in my nightgown, feeling so, so safe. Just one little scent and I'd be there: grown and carrying my baby upstairs. Knowing you'd laugh out loud with joy at his face and look adoringly into mine. Just one little scent and we'd be there: adventuring together.  I'd pack the car; you'd pack the snacks.  I'd pack the kids; you'd pack the kisses. When I think of what it feels like to be mothered, I only have to think of you. You gave me confidence when I was shaky.  You loved my kids as yours.  W...

What love feels like to me is a leap in my chest.  It feels like tension.  A gentle pulling from opposite sides of my body.  Like a rubber band slowly stretching and releasing, my heart beats.  It feels like something I should act on, but instead must hold.  Just hold inside and feel.  Feel.  Feel.  Feel the tension.  Don't do  anything.  Just feel. To me, love tastes like a surprise.  The flavors are unfamiliar, deeply satisfying and full of delight.  I slowly savor while hoping I can binge forever.  Both are true.  Everything is true.  I want it all. What love looks like to me is madness.  Like my mind has melted into an unrecognizable mush and is misfiring left and right.  Rationality, order, logic- nowhere to be found.  Pop!  Bang!  Crack!  The embers look dangerous.  The sparks are hot. To me, love smells like my grandma's sweater.  The smell enters my body as air...