I held the brown, letter-sized envelope in my hand and wondered… What did she send this time? Curiosity impatiently urged me to open the dang package and find out—so did my husband. Yet, lived experience quietly warned caution. Though a much smaller envelope than this one, the last one contained a surprise gift from my mother in the form of the dried-up piece of umbilical cord from my birth decades before. Mind you, I am a mother and a grandmother. So, I’m not ordinarily sque

The first crow came from the east just as she was dragging an old tire across the yard. It belonged to a life she no longer wanted to explain—one of those leftovers from a marriage that had ended in silence and left scattered bits strewn across the yard of her existence. Tires. Pipe. Rusted metal. A ladder too heavy and too tall for an aging woman to appreciate. For years, she’d tried to pretend the clutter did not exist. Neglecting it and herself. When she couldn’t avoid it,

What ingredients are flavoring your life? Once upon a time, a very thoughtful little girl named Rita (I know…fitting, right?) sat thinking about life and what she wanted to do with it when suddenly, an idea struck—bread! She wanted to make magic by creating the perfect loaf of bread. Mind you, she had made bread many times before, but she’d never created what she would define as the perfect loaf. Decided, she set about checking all the cupboards, digging and burrowi

What letting go taught me about joy, freedom, and trust. Some stories don’t leave you. They rise again in your memory like a whisper from your soul, gently reminding you of truths your heart once knew. As I was driving home today, my mind revisited a meditative experience I had sometime ago about the fishbowl of life. I began this journey at the bottom of a spiraling path that wound its way upward around a beautiful, sparkling water fountain. From where I stood, I could see t

When I was a young child there used to be two tables for our large family gatherings at Thanksgiving and Christmas: one for the children and one for the adults. Such occasions spanned days in preparation, culminating in the grand event. There were early preparations of homemade bread, stuffing, and pies—and then there was the turkey carefully watched and basted from the wee hours of the morning until it was just right. The delectable smells wafted through the air, teasing gr

Recently, I was approached by someone on Facebook. His profile checked all the boxes—successful, powerful, financially secure, and good-looking—the kind of person who, on the surface, might seem like an unexpected but exciting connection. While I had seen similar requests before and declined them, this time, I made a different choice. This time, I chose to engage—not out of belief but out of curiosity. I wanted to see what would unfold, observe the patterns, and understand wh

When Ego thinks it's found a shortcut...but the Universe has jokes! Recently, while in one of my more daring and adventurous modes, I ventured into the city only to realize—too late—exactly what time and day it was. Yup. I did it. I threw myself into the chaos of Friday afternoon rush hour traffic. Yes, go ahead and cringe. It wasn’t pretty. Mind you, while I don’t live in a massive metropolis (and I truly sympathize with those who do), traffic in my area is still a special

Have you ever just sat and talked to a friend on the phone for hours? I mean, literally—just sat. Nothing moving except the mouth. For hours. I have. And I won’t even admit (at least not in writing) just how long some of those conversations lasted. Let’s just say they redefined the term “long-distance call.” Yet, during those calls, my friend and I were so relaxed, so comfortable in each other’s company, that time simply didn’t exist. It felt no different than when we were to

Not here to preach-here to walk. Take my hand, and let's journey together. Before I travel too far down the road of this wild and wonderful blogging adventure, I want to offer a simple disclaimer for anyone who might feel compelled to critique, judge, or otherwise engage in the fine art of internet commentary: I am not an expert on the best way to live your life. And I have no desire to be. That is your journey to navigate. Truly. Yes, I have tools—powerful tools that have ma

When we are born and throughout childhood, the authors of our story are family, friends, educators, religious leaders, and society at large. They shape our experiences, thoughts, ideas, and beliefs, crafting the foundation of our backstory. But at some point, as we transition into adulthood, the pen that writes our story is placed into our own hands—often without us realizing that we are now the authors of our destiny. Too often, we continue writing with the same strokes of t