Category: Gratitude

With the Earth Like This

  How warm the rain this morning! It is a morning to sing along with— the rain a drum beat on the roof of my helmet the whoosh of rubber through puddle a cymbal I let all the car alarms, too, be bird song and my grin swells with the wind and the clouds. It is a day to breathe, like the wind, a … Read More With the Earth Like This

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What do you find? I beg my soul

  I trudge through the desert while balancing the water on my back, blinking to uproot the flies and to bat away the sticky sweat from rolling in my eyes. My vision is blurred by endlessness; no mountain no tree no landmark just dunes and this dusty shuffle casting fiery shadow prints. My feet sink ever deeper, deeper in the blister sand with every … Read More What do you find? I beg my soul

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To be Human

  There are so many concepts I don’t understand so many theories I can’t fathom I don’t know little things like the number of people in my town or whether my maternal side is republican or otherwise. I don’t know what it’s like to be a black woman, or

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Fingers Reach for Moon

  In the darkness I drape legs over the back of the bench rest back upon the wooden planks. Arms unleash and dissolve to the ground, fingers spread to caress velvet Grass. The curl of the seat tilts chin to Stars who moan beneath Shroud. I sing along. Wind captivates waterfall hair and Earth waits. We are breathless.

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Master Puppeteer

I’m not going to tell you what happened. Not about the woman I met, nor the shades of green on the hillsides against the coal black sand dunes. That’s not what you want to read about. I know this–I think I know this–because that’s not what I want to write about, either. “No man really knows about other human beings. The best he can do is … Read More Master Puppeteer

Play Dates with the Soul

He liked the first 15 seconds of the song; to some that was annoying but to him it was soothing and good exercise to reach over so often and press rewind. His life was a boxcar, a dream capitulated to the infinity and they mistook his focus for seriousness not understanding that he was engaged in a play date with his soul that was … Read More Play Dates with the Soul

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Time Traveling

Almost every morning I snuggle into cross-legged position with a cup of coffee and write for a while. Clear the cache. Explode a bit. Stream of conscious all the mindless rumblings of my soul until I can begin the day as blank a slate as possible. It’s a form of meditation; I actively practice non-judgment and non-attachment to my thoughts and ideas. I’ve detailed … Read More Time Traveling

Commitment

Center fold ask myself what matters now who am I this morning on this breath on this blink.

Hummingbirds

For my mother.  Breathe, little hummingbird, She said As she whisked her wings and Showed me how to fly.

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The Indonesian Parent Trap

I have met my twin, lost at birth. When I first saw her, sitting in the corner of our Math/English teachers room with the other math teachers, I thought to myself: That is who I would be if I were to have been a Math teacher. Without a doubt. I could tell she was thinking the same thing after our first conversation. Can you … Read More The Indonesian Parent Trap

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What’s it Like Teaching in Indonesia?

*disclaimer: I do not assume that, because I now have a smidgeon experience teaching here, that I know what teaching is like in Indonesia. Every school is vastly different; different curriculum standards (IB, Cambridge, New Zealand, etc.) different administrations, different teachers, different sets of kids with different economic backgrounds. This is, after week one, my experience at one particular school in a suburb of Jakarta. *  *  … Read More What’s it Like Teaching in Indonesia?

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Disconnected

I don’t have internet at my cave of wonders, only at International school, or the little street-side Internet cafes if I so choose. While for the first couple of days this was terribly burdensome and made me feel quite unsteady—especially since I had no way of getting ahold of my Indonesian contact who was to meet me on my first day of school—I have … Read More Disconnected