Writing and witnessing

It occurred to me today that when I write I am actually looking for something. Searching, sometimes, with an almost clingy desperation for someone to witness the pain and the joy and the small moments of my life that elicit pre-verbal reactions that I never want to explain in the moment. For example, love thatContinue reading “Writing and witnessing”

#25 healing poetry; A memory of a gentler time

Water glistens in drops acrossThe face of the mirrorI watchThe new edges of my face appearIn the corners of my eyesAs the wisps of hair around my earSpeak to a gentler timeWhen someone else asked meTo stay steady, steady nowWhile a hairbrush whispered throughMy curlsIt was a gentler worldI piece the memory togetherWith a curveContinue reading “#25 healing poetry; A memory of a gentler time”

The Price of Inauthenticity

I caught myself sound-byting my pain. It was sort of interesting to witness, I wanted to be authentic and here I was doing something pretty similar to what I’ve always done – giving just enough to make you feel you know me, then pulling all of the intricate moments of my life away, leaving bothContinue reading “The Price of Inauthenticity”