It’s just that love, I think, is magic, and work. Madeleine L’Engle once wrote about the great gift of love, the great cosmic pairing of two, and she said this: “It’s a strange thing, how you can love somebody, how you can be all eaten up inside with needing them–and they simply don’t need you.
Well, really, love is little more than a man bringing a pillow out to his wife on the hammock. But of course that’s not true. It is a man knowing his wife, noticing that it’s sunny, that the toddler is down for her nap, that she can certainly be found reading, swaying just outside the
Well, hey. We know each other but we don’t really know each other, so let’s get down to it, yes? Yesterday, it was realized that I am passive aggressive. It was also realized that this is quite common in women, as we’ve been raised to assume a certain posture, a certain persona, a certain portrait
This morning, I have fooled myself into thinking I have nothing to say. In truth, I have much to say – please come, don’t knock, let me tell you my feelings, would you like some grapefruit water? – but when my feelings aren’t kind and controlled and focused, my mind is a rushed tour guide
My girlfriend is a Montessori teacher and she is continually supplying me with small bits of parenting wisdom – a kind, charitable neighbor leaving shreds of lettuce leaves on her patio for me, the boggled spring bunny. Her most recent shred was not a leaf but an entire week’s worth of substance to chew on,
My necklace was tangled, and I was late, and frustrated that my fingers weren’t quite working the knot out as quickly as I’d wanted them to. And I’d cursed under my breath because everyone else would be on time, with their necklaces untangled, unknotted, free, and I’d need to sneak in the back with my
It’s Wednesday afternoon and Bee is down for her nap and the windows are open, and the dishwasher and laundry machines are making the most beautiful symphony of productivity and purpose, and Kelle just hit publish on a post where she interviewed me. It’s here, if you’d like to read. She’s a kindred spirit, a
I’m presenting this without commentary, as I want it to remain as untouched and unstained for you as it was for me. And I hope it might change the trajectory of your Tuesday, as it did for me: “It is a kind of love, is it not? How the cup holds the tea, How the