Is it possible? Can everyone have a happy father’s day?


The word touches deeply. For some it will bring a smile, and for others, it will bring deep sadness. I realize the gift of being among the smilers. But regardless of our experiences, and the vast differences represented, I am sure that we would agree that fathers impact. Whether it is for that which we long for, or for that which we have known and experienced, there is a depth in this word, this person, this possibility. To know what you would have wanted is a gift. I say this with reverence for the pain. I know it’s not easily accepted. It’s difficult and arduous to need a father and not have one. I believe a happy father’s day is available for us all.

You see, my father represents both groups. He represents joy in what he is to me; how he lives and gives; what tenacity, godliness and creativity he exudes, I feel the beauty & weight of that gift. And yet, he also represents the other group, He is among the sad for what he did not have himself. I feel selfish to even allude to this, but in some ways, I know that the longing for HIS father gave him a clear picture of what he could be for ME and my sisters. Pain does that. It gives a choice. And though he did not choose this sacrifice, I am the benefactor. I seem to be standing at an altar overladen with undeserved goodness. If I could share with him in reverse, I would.

Fathers impact. We can all celebrate that on this day. In one direction or the other, we’ve been given a gift.


emotional levitation

Levitation-the action of rising or causing something to rise and hover in the air, typically by means of supposed magical powers.

I’ve been thinking about emotional levitation; an energy hovering. I know people who seem to levitate emotionally. They walk among the earth, dust and dirt swirling with their movement. They even end up with dirt on their shoes like everyone else, but in moments of decision about how to interact with others; how to love;  how to “be”, they rise above the familiar terra firma like a hovering spirit over the newly departed soul, and they levitate.

Stillness in the current is a rare gem. Movement with stability is most uncommon in this place. But we see it in nature. The growth of a plant. The serenity of moving waters. We know it when we see/feel it.

I find these people alluring, magical, hopeful and inviting. These rare souls teach us that even while we are “sold” more often than “sought after” for relationship and enrichment, not everything is about the here and now. Sometimes it is about releasing ourselves to a realm of possibility. Sometimes the “here and now” instead,  invites us lo a “here but higher” perspective, where our minds don’t grapple for understanding but instead relish in a deep-seated trust.

For the concrete mind, this is a difficult one. This is a heartbeat, not a heart. It’s an intuition, not a math equation. Emotional levitators defy quietly with an unassuming smile.

Blue Sky Kindness

Kindness lingers, like flower blossom aromas wafting down the country lane, slowly winding it’s way, finding us.

To see kindness lived amidst harshness, kindness given in return for ill-will, kind-heartedness lived authentically because one is “being” instead of doing, is to see heroism and bravery. It’s a slow, laborious role.

Kindness speaks in lingering fashion, wafting generation through generation, patient  and believing for things not yet seen.

The red dirt on the kind one’s grave connects to the soles of the shoes of those wandering in the present. Sole to Soul, I guess you could say. Like I said, this is a slow role, taking years to speak it’s part. But kindness adds little by little, so that roots expand and grow until we find we are beneficiaries of shade from a towering tree. This is why we remember people who live kindness. It’s a lingering melody few are tenacious enough to sing.

Kindness is unassuming, yet large and expansive from east to west like the blueness of the sky, humble enough to hold a little white cloud, yet brave enough to carry the fiercest of storms. We often converse about what is blowing in and out of the heavens, and the “blueness” waits for us to see the stability of kindness it offers.

Beautiful, blue sky.



Ruts without Pizzazz


Do you ever feel like you’re in a rut and too many days go by without any “pizzazz” at all? I think it might be a good sign if we can ask and answer that question. And if we answer “yes”, it’s ok. It’s a good sign really. It means we’re intuitive, longing, hopeful, and yes, maybe even a little discouraged. But being discouraged and feeling like we’re “in a rut” means we haven’t given up. We’re on our way out because we’re looking; unsettled.

We’re looking to sway with the tress in the wind,

float like the leaf on a lake,

laugh like the magnolias in bloom,

sparkle like the wind chime hanging in the pecan tree,

breathe and stretch free like the wildflowers,

gracefully belong like the dandelion in the sun,

exude thankfulness like the water’s reflection…

It’s in these small responses and effortless reaction to goodness and beauty that carry us into newness. We don’t have to fight for it. We get on the raft and float into it. We open the window and the fresh air rushes in. Really, feeling like we are in a rut is a reminder- a thump in our heart whispering softly,

“don’t succumb to mindless living. Remember, you were made for more”


Embrace Your Weird

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There is part of us that wants to think we are just SO unique. Am I right? And I will be the first to say that in some ways I fully believe we are.  BUT.  Yes, BUT, here’s the funny thing: We are also all so weird, and in THAT we are similar! We all have weirdness lurking in the shadows. Sometimes we hear about weird ancestry stories where great aunt so-and-so always wandered down the road when it rained looking for her long lost love. (ok, maybe that’s a little dramatic). But it seems more common than not that each family has the mysterious stories intertwined with weirdness. Maybe your families’ story will be about you 😉

I was thinking about how weird I seem today. I’m nibbling on oatmeal for the 3rd time because I am in some kind of Mast Cell flare-up. And I know not a ton of people know how precarious it is to not know exactly what might trigger a full-on anaphylaxis episode (a smell, a molecule, a bite). Again, I (in my weird state) take my “concotions” (Restore and quercetin, black seed cumin oil, DAO enzymes…) -you get the drift. Weird supplement stuff. Weird needs. But if I took a few minutes to chat with you, I can almost guarantee that you have something hidden behind your “normal smile”. You have some weird thing, idiosyncrasy, crazy thought. intuition. fear. dream. Don’t you? I see you thinking about that. You know you’re weird.  hahaha

I think we should just let that be ok. Talk about the fact

that you like to touch trees when you walk past them

or need 2 more hours of sleep than most (it’s a real thing)

or can’t stand socks on in bed

or like to twirl your hair when you think

or take supplements for things people don’t even know exist

or randomly take detours on back roads (dirt roads, preferably)

or eat each food group one at a time on your plate, never mixing

or love to look for shark’s teeth

or never drink your drink until your dinner is done

or if you could, you’d always eat dessert and skip dinner

or  that you think maybe spirits already teleport and our bodies are trying to figure out how to catch up

or maybe you talk to people (from your mind to theirs) really believing that they “hear” you

or you can’t swallow a pill

or you are convinced that God allows your ancestors to look down and smile on you

or that “sunshine beach cravings” are real needs like pickles and ice cream (no pregnancy required)

or ___________________.


In some ways, all of the weirdness bonds us together in similarity, doesn’t it?

Embrace your weird. You’re in good company.

embrace your weird