Monthly Archives: January 2016
I sighed dramatically. “Cooper is so independent, now. It’s like I have to beg him to come snuggle with me. Except for when I go to the bathroom. He always follows me into the bathroom.”
Kintsukuroi: (n.) (v.phr.)
“to repair with gold”; the art of repairing pottery with gold or silver lacquer and understanding that the piece is more beautiful for having been broken.
I hadn’t planned on landing in Bend, Oregon and instantly feeling like I had found home, but I did.
Caroline and I lock eyes over Bea’s back: “Jackpot!”
Here, somewhere between the house of God, where God’s presence dwells, and a heap of ruins. Call on the name of the Lord.
DEQ spokesman Brad Wurfel stepped down too, probably because who wants to talk to the media, the public, the citizens of Flint, and the POTUS after your department “misinterpreted the water safety regulations?”
One summer when the air was hot, / The sort of heat not soon forgot; / Beneath a heavy reddish sky, / A river and a lake ran dry.
She was writing on the whiteboard when the agreed upon time came. She turned around to find all nineteen students in the class at their desks, blankly staring at her with metal spoons pointed upward in our closed fists.
Sometimes I imagine my own literary cross section. If years from now my brain were to be halved, splinters of Steinbeck and jumbled letters of Lewis would tumble out.
All I am asking is that if Bernie ends up losing the nomination, please go and vote for Hillary. She may not possess the charisma of Barack Obama or the radical progressiveness of Bernie Sanders, but she is a strong and capable candidate.
There is something gladiatorial about watching two players march onto the court before a roaring, royalty-studded crowd and knowing that only one will prevail
Finally, I have reached the pinnacle. This is what we have been waiting for for so long. A world without men. A world ruled by women. No longer under the thumb of the patriarchy, we are free to keep our floral soaps by the sink.
Shannara relies far too often upon chance encounters in forests—a kind of uncanny return, time and again, to the story’s protagonists.
Not long after my twenty-third birthday, I ducked into a restaurant bathroom and noticed something odd in the mirror. I squinted and leaned across the sink to confirm what I was seeing.
Faced with what the Justice Minister called “a new dimension of organized criminality” (a stark departure from “relaxed”), Germany is asking itself questions.
So lately I find myself trying, instead, to think less often about my insecurities and shortcomings, and to focus more on the person in front of me who is accepting me for who I am.
Frankly, if I didn’t have neighbors, I might open the door one morning and yell it into the sky. It might feel liberating, like skinny-dipping in the Pacific or popping a balloon.
So, in the immortal words of Usher and St. Augustine, these are my confessions. Fellow lit lovers, I have failed you.
Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness, that most frightens us.
I’ve missed Saturdays. It’s been years since I had a proper one. In fact, it’s possible that I never have.
So there is some loss, too, in coming back, in confronting memory with reality, nostalgia with the irrepressible present, which is always other than I imagined it. I am other than I imagined at seven (or eight, or nine).
I’m afraid that I’ll settle and never do anything I set out to do. I’m worried that life will slip by and I’ll be an old man saying, “If only I hadn’t settled for anything less than butterflies, I’d be a butterfly by now and not a caterpillar.”
One popular New Year’s resolution is to get rid of all your useless stuff, to de-clutter your life. I’m not making that resolution.
When we feel overlooked, under-appreciated, or ignored, isn’t it intoxicating to feel seen? Isn’t it easy to love someone who really knows you for who you are and still loves you anyway? This is the appeal of God.
“…a rediscovery of the sacred in the immanent, the spiritual within the secular… it is our everyday world, not some other one, that, in the words of the poet Gerard Manley Hopkins, ‘is charged with the grandeur of God.’” ~Harvey Cox, The Future of Faith...
Yup, definitely melting my brain. Totally worth it, though—and my cold is almost gone! It’s like they say: television really is the best medicine.
“So I see you enjoy burritos…” I would say and then stare at my shoes. “ And I observe that you are also wearing… [squinting] shoes… very cool…”
As the semesters and years roll along, my library—my store of knowledge—becomes more and more unread, and, in a similar way, the more I learn, the more I realize how little I actually know.
18. Use sunblock. 19. “Like” friends’ and acquaintances’ engagements on Facebook without texting your sister “I am going to die alone.” 20. Make your bed for once.