Dismount.

A dear friend of mine—a member of my hometeam—uses this phrase when she's done with a big meal. She puts her fork down and utters the word with a deep breath of exasperation. Dismount. She’s all done. She’s had enough. This meal is over, she’s had her fill. What I love is that this doesn’t…

Silence, Fear, and a Swaying Mind

I have found, through time and reflection, that my eyes refuse to let me rest on absolutes for very long. My vision takes an ounce of settled certainty and quickly refocuses to the flip side of the coin, revealing new perspectives of things I’d decided were surely the way I thought they were. Eventually, I…

Safety in Numbers

I was a Girl Scout for 13 years. Trust me, when you are a Girl Scout for 13 years, the buddy system is not a new concept. It’s ranked right up there with hugging trees and always carrying extra toilet paper and protecting your peanut butter from bears by hoisting it into a tree. When…

The 6 Months Deep (for real this time)

It’s been 6 months since I arrived in Bellingham, walked through the door of my yellow house and collapsed on the floor in a pool of much anticipated relief. 6 Months. A little more than 26 weeks. Exactly 184 days. 4,416 hours. That’s how long I’ve been able to call this city mine. That’s when…

26

“Enjoy the last moments of the first quarter of your life!” These are the words my roommate said to me as she left the living room and went to sleep last night, the night before my 26th birthday. Thus ensued a small moment of shock and panic—my very last moments of the first quarter of…

Trust and the Table

There’s a parade of thoughts marching their way through my mind as of late, and they all take shelter under a common umbrella—connection. This word has been set on replay, showing up in a million different places and demanding to be noticed. There’s been a sense of urgency attached to it, giving it a sense…

Made Brave

On October 6th, I wrote this little blurb as a note in my phone. That happens on occasion, if I find myself without a paper and pen, and with words bubbling up in me that need a place to call home. They find that home in my phone, and are typically forgotten and left behind. But…