30.3.16

Many of you may remember being approached by my sister, Abby, a few years back for a Christmas present for me. I was having a difficult year dealing with the uncertainty of the future, my calling, and insecurities surrounding my inability to achieve what I thought was my greatest desire (medical school). As a gift, my sister decided to compile a journal filled with notes and letters from my close friends over the years in an overwhelming effort to encourage me and show me how blessed I am.

I found this journal again last night and discovered that I have never felt less alone in my life. Inside the pages there are statements promising to never give up, challenges to stretch myself, reminders to be gentle, memories both joyful and tearful, promises of future adventures, and ultimately a pile of gorgeous words and feelings to drown in. How did I manage to read this three years ago and not take the time to properly thank all of my people? So here it is today, on Good Friday.

Thank you. Thank you to the friends, sisters, roommates, aunts, ballers, giraffes, scholars, artists, adventurers and desert wives of my life. Thank you for taking the time to share name acronyms, inside jokes, fond memories and kind words with me throughout our time together and in the form of this journal that I cherish so deeply. Thank you for filling my love tank.

If I may quote an incredibly articulate giraffe whom I adore from my toes to my imaginary mouse-whiskers: "And even now, over the treetops and time distance that separates us, you're still here: in the times that I miss you."





19.2.16

an ache for justice

[I write this to you as the opposite of a friend. I write this to you as an advocate for she who cannot advocate for herself.]

And by the name of my good Lord I pray that the unbearable weight of your cross rubs your shoulders raw until the day you die. 

25.1.16

"It's a little bit sad, growing older"

At one point you stopped liking my photos 
and I stopped noticing
The distance grows kindly
and the healing fills it
We are happier now and have forgotten 
all the pain of our youth
The groan of adulthood heavier than 
our young hearts imagined

28.5.15

Exam playlist (clearly in a lesser state of sanity)

Crazy In Love (2014 remix) - Beyonce
Chandelier - Sia
Love Lockdown - Kanye West
Wildwood Flower (live off the floor) - The Dearhearts
Bungalow - Scott Helman

And also 8 hour Youtube videos of rain falling and/or fire places.
I'm losing my mind.

27.5.15

Even I forgot about my own blog, so I don't blame you if you did too

It amazes me how life changes and whatever depth of uncertainty and fear that fuelled my creativity no longer exists in the slightest. The newest and most exciting journey of my life is only beginning but I'm more compelled to live it than write about it. I panic a little and am discouraged with the realization that I was relying on instability and insecurity in order to express myself. What if I can't write anymore? What is interesting about a life that is based on stability?

Oh but it is everything. It is the joy of pursuing what I feel born to do, the privilege of being given a glimpse into people's lives, the opportunity to save. It's the challenge of finding solutions, the humbling that comes with not knowing, the possibility of innovation and earth shattering discoveries. It is how lucky I feel to be able to go to school (and eventually work) every day and truly love everything that is thrown in my path.  It's the incredible gift of unconditional love and commitment, taking me on adventures for the rest of my life with the most fun and interesting human on the planet.

My writing isn't gone, it has just changed. It grew up, as did I.


29.1.14

Thanks a heap coyote ugly...

This cactus-gram stings worse than your abandonment rejection.



Whoa. Dream big. 

22.10.13

I'd like an earl grey with some creativity on the side

Words tended to come easily but somehow they are captured just behind her eyes and the only thing that seeps through is tears and occasional profanity. It leaves an aching at the tip of the triangle and a lingering bitterness on the palate. One sided conversations turn into uncomfortable silences where eyes are averted and lower lips bitten; both waiting for the other to answer questions that were never spoken. Only the foolish wait for words that no longer exist so they part with a nod, not realizing they still wait for lips to part and offer more than breath. One step forward and about half a million steps to the left and they’ve still got heat nipping at the heels. Swallowing the fist in her throat she attempts sheepishly to mold the coughs into a semblance of a word. It is mistaken for a yawn and she is reminded that she is dreadfully late for a teleconference with a dial tone.

18.10.13

I watched you from the wrong side of the fence

He stood at the brink of the bedspread and the cusp of my wariness and I whispered "I'll make a mess out of you".

I'm blind without my glasses but I didn't ask for a clarity that would hurt me.

This is my wilderness.

12.4.13

was a time...

HABER: Marry me?
CLARA: I don't know.
                Pause
               Will you search for me?
HABER: I...
CLARA: Will you?
HABER: I...
CLARA: Will you? Because if you don't ... If you stop searching, if you stop working, if you stop trying to know, you will lose me. Do you understand?

8.4.13

searching for a door in a brick wall

Gripping the floor with my feet and supporting my voice with abdominal line-backers; shoulders up, open sternum, grounded grounded grounded, be on your voice and let whatever's coming up inside inform your breath. He's prying my arms from my chest, "does that make you feel exposed? Good" and telling me how I'm greedy with my emotions, "they know there's something there that you don't want to give to them". When asked what came up for me, I say that everything I love is being taken away from me and the only words I'm allowed to utter are 'why not' as these sobs are being witnessed by 26 eyes. Permission to access the rage in our souls results in "thank you, you went there": what came first the scream or the fury?

The worry has been a knife point in my back forcing me to step forwards into the darkness and trust, trust, trust. I run until my lungs burn and shout until my throat is raw.

I am stopped dead in my tracks by a gaze as blue as ice and as unsure as my own. My breath is heaving and ears tingling. Neither of us know any answers but he shook my shoulders and challenged my race:
"Are you pulling a Jonah?"
And they continue to slam.

What came first? The scream or the fury?

26.3.13

how far I toil, still farther off from thee

They sit behind her eyes and push gently against her tear ducts, always on the verge of spilling into a physical manifestation of her loneliness. Her throat is sore and tired from constant swallowing of sobs.
"I thought we were a team but now I'm not even sure we are playing the same game." Sitting in a damp forest, or on a bed, or at a coffee shop, or in a truck: it's always the same conversation. Different friends but the same company, the same support, the same love. 

Feels like leaving home behind all over again.