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About this blog

A particular focus on my healing and transformation of the past few years. Sharing experience, strength, and hope

Entries in this blog

I'm back

I'm back   Given recent events, I feel fragile as I wander the aisles of the grocery store. I want to be left alone, which is unlike me as of late. I glance at a man here and there and wonder. An elderly one stands looking perplexed in the spice aisle.  I consider offering help, but no, not today. I need to keep to myself. Opposite him, I reach for a bottle of olive oil. “Are you an expert?” He asks from behind. I turn and he engages me in a pleasant, lengthy conversation. As we part w
ContinuingMetanoia

ContinuingMetanoia

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Matt Lauer/Locker room

Justified. It's the word that came forth from my pen as I journaled about the Matt Lauer deal.    Most women have a story. I have mine. Like Matt, he was well liked and fun loving. Along with that, there was a facet of him that was so not okay.    I am grateful there is more exposure. We've worked through this in my own Catholic Church.    Expose it. Name it. Claim it. Fix it. Heal it. Unfortunately for the victims, healing continues for a lifetime. Certainly with h
ContinuingMetanoia

ContinuingMetanoia

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Transfiguration

Transfiguration  When he opened his soul to me, we were on holy ground. As I leaned against a door jamb, He appeared before me. Eyes did not see, rather soul burned. He stood before me. “His face shone like the sun and his clothes become white as light.”   All spirit. Permeable. Radiant. Alive. He and I. I and Him. One.  Mt. Tabor. I wanted to stay. Cling. Lord, it is good that I am here. Shall I build three tents?   As for Peter, James, and John, Jesus gave a glimpse of his
ContinuingMetanoia

ContinuingMetanoia

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Scene Change

Scene Change   An old hag sits hunched over at the end of the bar at Judy's. Cigarette in one hand. Gin in the other. Smoke burns her lungs. Gin rots her gut. Her skin is leathered. When someone approaches, she tells them to go to hell. She's alone. She's cold. She's closed. She's hard.  Scene change... An old lady sits in her favorite chair, in her long time home, gazing out the window, in contemplation.  With both hands, she cradles a cup of tea, savoring its warmth, fragra
ContinuingMetanoia

ContinuingMetanoia

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