all the goodies.

This past month, I’ve had many conversations about the temporary-ness of this life and the part that that plays in both good and bad decisions.

For a couple years now I’ve been on the hunt to discover what the meaning of home feels like in my chest.

“You’re the only one who gets to feel what your body feels".

I had a dream last night that I died.

A couple days ago I was pulled to work on the psych unit of the hospital.

My grandpa used to have this really amazing way of making the most mundane tasks extraordinary.

For what seems like years, but has been only six months, Willy and I have lived in our little 31 foot airstream.

I spent majority of December horizontal.

I did a yoga class today with an instructor I had never met before.

I really didn’t want to write about this because I didn’t honestly know what to say.

For the past couple days, when I’ve been driving home from work I see sparks of lightening in all colors shooting through the heavy cement of a highway nestled in the foothills of the mountains.

I decided to take a wee bit of a break from blogging so I can pound out the rest of my book.

I travel nursed for fifteen months just me and my dog until two other angels joined our crew.

The word Kumbaya originates from Africa and was primarily sung during the 1950s and 60s, when slavery was in it’s peak.

When I was growing up, my sister made at least one hundred friendship bracelets every summer.

When I was in Asheville this past December, I went into a shop that was selling local artists’ paintings.

Sometimes when I’m in total darkness, I can think much clearer.

When we were road tripping around the west before I started another assignment in Gig Harbor, Washington, we met this family at a campground.

The more I write, the braver I feel.