To the face I did not know
The one whose name is clandestine
Spoken whispers, just below hearing
Your breath did not share my space
I never knew your laughter
Nor could I recognize your voice
Your eyes and mine have never met
But I grieve the loss of you.
The you were human, like me.
The you who had happiness and sorrow
The you who was quiet or loud
The you who was every bit as breathing as I am
The you who was every bit as worthy of love
The you who was every bit as alive
You were invaluable to the fabric of the Universe
I stand as witness that you existed
I attest to your right to dignity as a human being
May love now surround you with grace and mercy.
Category Archives: Personal
Love Showed Up
When I have been in darkest pain
Feeling I could not hope again
Love showed up.
When I felt lost and overwhelmed
Riding grief on a boat unhelmed
Love showed up.
When I’d thought my demon’s vanquished
But they roared to life, causing anguish
Love showed up.
It didn’t try to change my pain
But gently whispered, “Try again.”
Love showed up.
It didn’t try to change my trouble
It helped me to clean up the rubble
Love showed up.
It helped me navigate which way to travel
Clothing myself in threads unraveled
Love showed up.
Its compass pointed to my true north
Showing me how to sally forth
Love showed up.
It walked beside me on meandering paths
Teaching forgiveness for my past
Love showed up.
The Ashes of Nobody
The ashes of nobodies
(No bodies?)
Are in a mausoleum
Placed on a shelf
Without ceremony
As if life repeats itself in death
Held without specific honor
No proof of ancestry
Tracing roots back to the dust
They’ve returned to
without a name or with
unknown cause or suppos-ed
forgotten or lost
As if life repeats itself in death
No words to dress them in Saint’s clothes
A hurried end without recompense
Humbly offered words of worth
They did exist here on earth
They dreamed the dreams of all of us
But the shelter line was drawn too high
The cracks they fell into, too deep
As if life repeats itself in death
Anger
This is what it feels like when it’s directed towards me:

Death Conference
I get hyper-excited about a lot of things. I love chickens, Kawphy, my sainthood friends, my church, etc. But, getting excited about death? Yup. That’s also me.
My saint of a bestie Jen woke me up at 4:20 this morning. I was setting my alarm before going to sleep, couldn’t figure out what I wanted to wake up to, plugged up my phone assured that my alarm would go off. Only it didn’t because I didn’t save it. Yes, you can eye roll.
My brain was on backwards so I hope I didn’t forget to pack any essentials. I was mostly ready minus chargers and my laptop.
I’m currently sitting in the Knoxville airport awaiting a flight to Chicago. Then, off to Seattle. After catching an Uber to my hotel (a block away from the conference location), I’m going to rest, breathe, and ground myself.
I’ve booked a haunted walking tour for tonight which was recommended by Jordan from Calamity’s Coffee. I’ll catch you up as things unfold.

Lost Religion
There is a Spirit in the soil
The place where life begins
and to where it again returns
You have to run up to the very edge
of your very own grave
to understand how deeply
your Spirit’s truth can go
How connected we all are
as transient souls;
seperate but one
The Spirit calls out to us every moment
rarely is it heard as the truth
Destructive forces we are against it
We are poor stewards of our gift
our home, our residence, our church
Meeting of the Wounds
Yesterday was a wild ride. I took my friend to the orthopedic doctor to get an appraisal done on her freshly broken ankle. During the course of our conversation she said something that struck me deeply.
“When you’re meeting someone, you’re meeting their wounds.”
Dude. The more I thought about it, the more it made sense.
She went on to say, “People who have had trauma, bring that forward with them in various manifestations. People who are givers typically didn’t have enough and they don’t want others to feel that way so they tend to overgive.” (not exact quote but that’s what she said in essence)
People who were neglected may be overly attentive. People who were abused may be overly protective. People who were torn down regularly may be a powerful motivator to uplift others. People who got lost may find their way to their own path and lead others on theirs.
I had never considered the wounds of others. My focus has been on meeting people as they are right now. Sometimes the encounters are pleasant, others not so much. If it’s not ideal, I tend to grant personal grace because I don’t know why they would do or act in such a manner.
Understanding that I’m meeting all of their wounds and successes really honed in on my understanding of others. But, moreso, it forced me to realize how my wounds interact with the world.
I’ve worked incredibly hard to become the person that I want to be for my own satisfaction. I’ve taken what’s happened to me throughout my many chapters, discarded what didn’t work for my vision of myself and embraced my joy. I’ve struggled to understand where my life choices have brought me. I’ve battled with the traumas that changed my life directions.
And still, when I see other people out in the wild, I did not recognize, cognitively, their wounds are just as exposed as mine are. I didn’t look past the present to understand that their past is as valid to them as mine is to me. That sounds juvenile and a bit Pollyanna, but I WANT to understand. I want to help where I can because my feelings of helplessness, abandonment, degradation, and abuse profoundly changed me.
Some may say that those things were horrors, to which I’d have to agree. But, they were also a catalyst that’s propelled me forward into a level of self discovery, self appreciation, and self love that I don’t know I’d recognize without the impact of of those events in my life.
An online friend of mine has been writing about their own self-discovery. They are picking away scabs, examining the wounds, and putting healing energy where it’s needed in their soul. As I see it, that’s the bravest thing a person can do. The courage that it takes to bite into your own skeleton filled closet, examine the contents of your guts, digest the lessons that have been sorely learned is an incredible journey and not without adventure.
“You’re meeting people’s wounds” not just the current version of them, but all of their life and experiences. I’ll love them anyway because that’s who I am because of and despite my own wounds.
Truth
Apology
I’m asking for an apology
one I know I’ll never get
for every time you hurt me
for each of these regrets.
For every neglectful incident
for refusal to pull emotional weight
for your bitter anger towards me
for which I took the bait
For the disturbing blackmail
that you forced on me to pay
with the difference between want and need
being thrown up in my face
Abide with Life
I was sure I’d be dead by 21. I was positive I’d be married and have children. I was convinced that I would be married forever.
I’m 56 years old now. I live happily by myself with a pup and a cat for company. I’m surrounded by friends who love and celebrate me. I own my own business. And, weirdly enough, my path has become one of caregiving and spiritual with a focus on death and dying.
My 18 year old self, my 25 year old self, and even my 40 year old self wouldn’t recognize the life I have now. Possibilities have changed my life when I started saying yes and quit doing what I thought I should.
This life I build each day is a true adventure.


