After the Noise, We Sit

A quiet return. An invitation to attention. A place to begin. I have been quiet here. Not because the words ran out,but because I did not want to add noisewhere attention was required. There are seasons when explaining feels productive.And there are seasons when explanation only protects the self. This has been the latter. So... Continue Reading →

When the Quiet Thing Isn’t Harmless

Daily writing promptDo you trust your instincts?View all responses Do I Trust My Instincts? Grace with a trace of poison. Some days I want my instincts clean and whole, like the poison-dart frog I copied from a 2008 National Geographic—bright, unblinking, gripping its branch as if the whole forest depended on that small act of... Continue Reading →

The Hinges We Almost Miss

What details of your life could you pay more attention to? Three moments, caught before they slipped away — reminders that love and wonder often whisper, not shout.Life moves like weather — quick, familiar, and somehow always surprising.Most days we stand in its wind, meaning to notice, but not quite seeing.Then a photograph, a sound,... Continue Reading →

What Youth Spends, Wisdom Keeps

Daily writing promptShare a lesson you wish you had learned earlier in life.View all responses The Collections That Taught Me Grace I collected things once, the way boys do, as if the world could be catalogued and kept. Stamps torn from perforated sheets, slipped from milky envelopes ordered from the Littleton Stamp Company’s ads in... Continue Reading →

When The Squares Run Out

Why do you blog? Life measured in boxes—headstones stacked above, pale squares below. Nothing promised. How Many Squares Do You Have Left? Following a Life Lived From the Inside Out I keep a grid on paper—ten by ten, one square for each possible year.Sixty-three of mine are shaded already.Dark little boxes, like headstones in rows.The... Continue Reading →

Even There, You Are Not Alone

Daily writing promptHow would you describe yourself to someone who can't see you?View all responses The WordPress prompt was:How would you describe yourself to someone who can’t see you? I didn’t answer right away.The question cut deep—past the easy stuff like job titles, appearances, or roles.It asked for something real.Something forming.Something still in process. And... Continue Reading →

Romance, With a Side of Dust

Daily writing promptWhat's your definition of romantic?View all responses Because real love rarely wears clean boots. Imagine a white-fenced farmhouse, warm in the golden hour.Woods whisper off to the side.A lone cow stares across the field like she owns it.It’s the kind of scene you’d call romantic—a quiet, glowing stillness. Romantic—until you step closer. But... Continue Reading →

Website Powered by WordPress.com.

Up ↑