I had nearly forgotten about what this day meant to me, two months ago, before everything was shut down, cancelled, brought to a screeching halt. If not for covid-19, I’d be packing my bags today, and reviewing my neatly organized and thoroughly reviewed checklist in order to prepare for 2 months of European travel.
Read MoreIt’s late April here in Connecticut, and we’re probably a bit past asparagus season. I likely won’t find any wild spears on my daily walks. Certainly not on this property we bought a year ago; the previous owners let the garden go a long, long time ago. But I’m keeping my eyes open anyway because these magical little stalks are a calendar of their own. A crisp, green clock.
Read MoreA few years ago, my mentor from university, Dr. H, passed away. It was a serious shock to the system. He seemed, the whole time I knew him, to be an unyielding force. His lectures were often like revivalist sermons - intense, emotional, and always calling for justice.
Read MoreToday marks one year since I moved to New Haven. It is just as rainy as it was the day we arrived, and so humid my skin is crawling. Despite one last paper to finish before I can officially deem the semester complete, I can’t stop thinking about the day we spent in Falls City, Nebraska when we drove out here last summer.
Read MoreThere is something really beautiful about this wild and seemingly solitary walk... I used to rely on others for affirmation of my faith, like pastors or friends or professors. But now all I have is the wind and silence and music and the artifacts of my past belief to pour over in this self-examination.
Read MoreThis is a creative space, a project that will highlight my creative, less-academic writing. It deserves a space of it's own. And while I'm out of practice, I'd like to think of this type of expression as a field left in fallow for years. That is, a field left to rest, to be restored
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