Tagged with small life slow life

Betrayed.

Betrayed.

The last time I bled, you were alive. When we got the news, my body, paralyzed by loss, stopped mid-cycle. When they took you away five days later, things continued where they’d left off, as though my body had simply pressed pause. Almost exactly a month later now, I bleed again. I felt the shock … Continue reading

Small Life, Slow Life: It took a fire.

Small Life, Slow Life: It took a fire.

You might have heard that fires are raging through Southern California again. While they aren’t close to us this time, the wind blew all of the smoke and ash here, and, long story short, both C’s gym and my store have been closed for two days due to poor air quality. And it’s not like … Continue reading

Small Life, Slow Life: Evaporating Color.

Small Life, Slow Life: Evaporating Color.

The truth is, since I stepped into my new role, I haven’t written a single word. (Well, that is, other than work emails and business recaps and community plans.) I did all that work last year clearing out the channel, scrubbing off the rust and corrosion, wrote 100 days in a row and then some…and … Continue reading

Small Life, Slow Life, The Luxury of Grief.

Small Life, Slow Life, The Luxury of Grief.

Do you remember when you had the luxury of grief? You were allowed the space to be fully devastated. You could call into work, *cough cough* into the phone, tell your boss that no, you weren’t feeling better. You could use up your whole sick time you’d accrued in the fetal position, tangled in sheets, … Continue reading

Small Life, Slow Life: The Lapse.

Small Life, Slow Life: The Lapse.

It’s hard to believe that almost two months have slipped by. When I transferred stores in February, I told people, “I’m not going to make any decisions for thirty days. I’ll observe, and listen a lot, but no big decisions for thirty days.” In the one therapy session I’ve had in the last eight weeks, … Continue reading

Small Life, Slow Life: Afraid to lose.

Small Life, Slow Life: Afraid to lose.

I remember looking at my computer screen, the letter from Berkeley announcing my acceptance, glaring at me in black and white. We are pleased to inform you. “Aren’t you happy?!” Other Mom said, shaking my shoulders. “Get excited!” Another memory: Eighth grade graduation, crying my eyes out, thinking of saying goodbye to a temporary boyfriend, … Continue reading