grace

As I consider Christmas, and what I’d give myself if I gave myself gifts, I consider grace. The word grace. Plain. Simple. New year. Resolutions. Goals. Thoughts as to what I want to change. The word, again, comes to my mind. Grace. Give myself grace. I am not perfect. I am a person. Over and … More grace

thoughts on the week

I wrote this on Sunday. Just got around to posting today… This past week was a week. As in rather trying. Emotions and words and faces. Joys. Hopes. Memories. Voices. Smiles. Hugs. Thank yous. I’m sorries. I got up Wednesday morning feeling physically worse than I have in a long, long time. Headache. Emotionally drained. … More thoughts on the week

the process

I took a walk yesterday evening. I like to walk despite the fact I like to run. I came home after work, after teaching a piano lesson. And decided to walk. Even though. I had a dishwasher to unload. Clothes to fold. Emails to read and respond to. I decided to take a walk. Even … More the process

all I’ve got

I’ve had the conversation with my daughter numerous times. I tell her I believe the work I do is important. Imperative. And it’s fine that it’s not on the front lines. That I’m not loud or in someones face. That I feel my work is to be there in the day-to-day. In the neighborhoods. With … More all I’ve got

sometimes I forget

Sometimes I forget about rain. And then it rains. Like right now. It’s currently raining. A soft rain. Not associated with a storm. It rarely rained in my hometown. So all those years, growing up, I never became familiar with rain. It was always a luxury. A special treat. No one owned an umbrella. When … More sometimes I forget

brown eyed girl

I am a song lyric person. I believe I’ve mentioned it before in my blog. When I hear a song, I often think of a person. I relate the song, based on the lyrics, to a person I know or have known. Not always, but sometimes. Often, actually. Brown Eyed Girl. A classic. And I … More brown eyed girl

nearly perfect

There are days when I wake up and can hardly imagine getting out of my bed. Small exaggeration, yes. But I don’t want to get up. A slight headache. The knowledge it’s going to be a long day. Probably won’t be done until 8pm. Which for some people is normal but for me it seems late. … More nearly perfect