Books and films take time—years perhaps—before anything comes of them, if anything comes of them, other than myself and my writing partners arguing over the number of times I have to correct ‘it’s’ to ‘its’ in yet another final version.
Five years ago, when I was pregnant with my son and a manager of multiple departments, people, and programs (too many), I called my boss and not-calmly, told-not-asked “I don’t want any of them. None! Dump ‘em all! And don’t ask me what to do with them either!” I hear people say to me all […]
Part of my creative process is clearing my headspace so I can focus. I want to make sure I have shown up for my other commitments so my mind feels free to wander and write. But I have to be careful of not waiting for everyone and everything else to be okay before I turn within.
I could feel the bones of my spine winding like strands of DNA as I followed the energy down, down to the ground. The shape of a turtle. I’m protecting the soft parts of my body, the open curves and tender heart. I close my arms around my sides in case the front of my lungs that stretch past the ribs might be vulnerable, pulling it all towards center and letting the shell of my strong back contain it all. Mine. My space, my center, my feet tucked under to root me deep into the earth. I am safe.
My stepmom, once upon a time, told me that you should always know how your partner is each and every day. I took that to heart and over time opened my mind to include all the people in my innermost circle. Not only does it feel loving, it anchors me to my relationships and holds me accountable.
Self-compassion for when personal space is limited I think a lot about space—the space in my home, the planets, and the space I reserve for self-discovery. Like many people, I often crowd out the very things I stand for as if my value of them gives me the right to diminish their importance as I […]
