“When I wasn’t looking, the best things found me anyway.”

About Me

  • Confessions of a Texas Hardened Criminal

    I have a confession to make. I am a hardened criminal. Not because of that Texas roll at a stop sign last Tuesday — you know, the kind where you respectfully acknowledge the sign but don’t fully commit — but… Continue reading

  • Boundaries with Benjamin

    Dear Money, We’ve had a pretty toxic relationship. You act like I want to spend all day thinking about you. You keep showing up, trying to call the shots, tempting me to center my life around you. But let’s be… Continue reading

  • The House With No Blueprint

    From my beautiful flower garden,you will see glowing arched windows appear on the second floor—but inside, they are nowhere to be found. You enter through heavy, hand-carved oak doors,their iron hinges moaning like old violins… And then—the relaxing sounds of… Continue reading

  • This Time Forever

    I once wore strength like a heavy winter coat — a shield against seasons of survival and fear masquerading as grace. I have worn many ghosts of myself; they were echoes of the world’s demands. Now, the air has cleared.… Continue reading

  • The Book That Refuses to Be Finished

    I think there are sixty-six of them. Some are poetry.Some are history.Some are letters written from prison cells and dusty roads—and enough wisdom to keep you coming back for more. I have read these books many times. Each time, I… Continue reading

  • The One Thing That Waits

    On my to-do listthere is always one thingthat remains untouched. Clean Your Closet. It arrives underlined,sometimes twice,so it knows I mean business. The task is simpleand impossibleat the same time. I tell myself I will do it tomorrow. But tomorrow… Continue reading

  • Not Just for Hunger

    My favorite thing to cook depends on the moment.My guests matter just as much as the food—sometimes more. What I cook is never just for hunger. Cooking, like living, works best when you don’t overstay at the stove. You step… Continue reading

  • Leisure, Taken Apart

    Leisure has changed for me. It’s not what it once was. In leisure, I do not sit still.I float beside my thoughts. A violin, a gentle piano, hums somewhere—even if no one is playing it. Art leans in through my… Continue reading

  • To Complain or Not to Complain

    I complain about nothing small.Small things do not trouble me.I complain about nothing politely. I complain—though perhaps that is not the word. Once, it simply meant saying:this hurts,this isn’t right,truth refusing to stay quiet. Somewhere along the way, it soured—recast… Continue reading

  • What a Name Learns

    My first name was a beginning stroke.Given before courage.Before the world made its demands.In time, my name learned me. It doesn’t waste syllables.It’s short. Memorable. A little defiant.It does not ask permission to enter a room. It sits cross-legged and… Continue reading