Sharing Personal Space

My perspective on life was put in place in part by a woman who passed from this world more than seven years before my birth. If no one told me, who knows who I would be right now. Oral tradition and story sharing are art forms that are slipping away in our instant age. So I write to pass the stories down.

My great-grandmother used to say that miracles are all around us, we just need to learn to see. I am certainly not there yet, but I try everyday. There are stories I have collected both of my own experience and the orations of others that I feel compelled to document. It would be nice if this organic process of sharing and documenting would attract others who would like to read along and perhaps even do the same. Time will tell.

Thanks for reading. Now go share a story with someone you love.


Welcome, Fellow Travelers

Although you may be bare, you can still reach up to the sun.

Although you may be bare, you can still reach up to the sun.


You can go home again. There’s something comforting about going back and seeing that everything is right where you left it. Sure, the small lines and added pounds may be there, but the container still holds the same essence. All the glitchy goodness of imperfection I once thought I wanted to escape. There’s no escape from that — we all have problems. The difference is whether those around you are willing to accept you no matter what weird thing you do. Acceptance is a powerful thing. Welcome home. You belong. We know you and still want you. Your place at the table is still open. Don’t worry about being late. The light is on.