Seasons of Water – short creative narrative

creating a skyscraper
seasons of water

I am light and cold as I float through the air, then become warm and heavy, clinging, and sliding down glass. On the window sill, I rest with the others that have melted. We band together when the temperature drops and we freeze together, creating a single form, as we do this we constrict and take up less space, drawing in on ourselves. For an unknown amount of time we sit like this, together, by accident or by a sequence of events that none of us could have planned or predicted. But here we are, stuck together, sharing our lives. An individual becomes a group of individuals which becomes one to the naked eye.

Ahh, warmth and I’m expanding again, becoming loose from my companions, oh how I will miss them now that I have gotten used to them – how hard to say good-bye. But I haven’t a choice as I roll, effortlessly, off the sill and onto the ground.

The dirt sucks me in thirstily – hastily – without pleasantries or introductions. I’m drawn into the dark roots of an object I can’t identify but it seems to know my species well and it draws me up. All along the pain, the loss of individual, the loss of companions, the loss of flight through crisp air with the greatest view you could ever imagine – it brought me here to this moment, to sustain life. I don’t know the future but so far it has been worth every transformation. I wanted to hold back, to hold on, to stay where I had become accustomed but I’m glad I didn’t. Oh the sun feels so good, it seems to lift me straight up into the air. 

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Forgiveness Part 2

creating a skyscraper chicago forgiveness part two

I’ve been doing an exercise that Louise Hay created in her book “You Can Heal Your Life.”

She recommends you say, “The person I need to forgive is ___________ and I forgive you for ________________.”

Then, if you’re working with a partner, you say it aloud to them. They then say, “Thank you, I set you free now.”

At first, I have to admit, this all sounded a little hippie-dippie to me. A little “out there.” But I decided to try it. I thought of the person I most needed to forgive and I wrote a long, two-page list of everything that I needed to forgive them for.

There is the old saying, “Holding a grudge is like taking poison and hoping the other person will die.” Continue reading “Forgiveness Part 2”

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creating a skyscraper forgiveness

The message keeps coming to me in conversations – forgive – in books I’m reading – forgive – in a favor for a friend – forgive – in a lecture series I listen to while driving – forgive.

I have forgiven a lot but not all. I’m holding on to a tiny morsel, but why? Why not let it all go, every last piece?

I realized that my anger is my only connection to my mother. My anger is like a rope attaching a row boat to a dock. If I let go of that last shred of anger, all connection to my mother will be gone. The boat will drift away, and I’ll be standing at the shore without her. Continue reading “Forgiveness”

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What I’ve learned about empathy


Have you ever encountered someone who is going through a troubling time (death in the family, serious illness, loss of a job, etc) and felt like you said the wrong thing? I feel like that all of the time!

In 2011, I volunteered at a non-profit that helps women who have survived a sexual assault. As volunteers, we went through an intensive two weekend (40 hours) training before we were allowed to interact with survivors. The main focus of this training was – teaching empathy.

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Failure – Friend or Foe?

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Hello, welcome back! How were you taught to look at failure? By taught, I mean how do the people who mattered most to you view failure?

I was taught that failure was evidence. Evidence that you’re doing the wrong thing; that you don’t have what it takes; that you should have played it safe instead of taking a risk; that you are different from the “successful” people and therefore can’t achieve what they can achieve.

Here’s what I’m learning at age 33. Failure is normal. It doesn’t define me unless I let the failure stop me.


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