When Every River Tries to Become the Ocean
A reflection on what happens when a life stretches beyond its natural shape — and the quiet grace of returning to the river you really are.
Wisdom is how you live.
A reflection on what happens when a life stretches beyond its natural shape — and the quiet grace of returning to the river you really are.
A quiet remembrance on how every inhale is borrowed and every exhale is a gift — a reflection that begins in a shared bed, expands through family, and ends in communion with all that breathes.
Jesus isn’t just the Redeemer.
He’s the Reviver—the Protagonist of Time,
walking backward through the chaos
to make sure love still makes it to the end.
The Trinity is not only Father, Son, and Spirit—it is also written in us as love, forgiveness, and kindness. One eternal, one fragile; one source, one echo. Together they form the shape of infinity, with Christ at the crossing where heaven and humanity meet.
This past year has been one of letting go, following sparks, facing fear, and listening for whispers. Along the way I’ve remembered faith as my compass — Grace, Presence, and Spark — and begun to see life not as poles in opposition, but as the thread in between that makes us whole. Mid-life, I’ve found, is not a crisis but a crossing.
I didn’t write about Robin Williams because he was famous. I wrote about him because he was familiar. This is the story behind that reflection—a quiet remembering of presence, pain, and the spark we all carry.
“The soul must abandon all her own understanding and dwell in the dark.”
— Meister Eckhart
We often talk about following Jesus—but what if he was never just a teacher, but a mirror? This piece explores how Christ’s life invites us to love the unloved self, forgive what we carry, and practice kindness not as performance, but as presence. Not religious. Not dogmatic. Just real.
Not all weight is a burden.
Belonging doesn’t crush us—it steadies us.
This essay explores grace as the quiet tether that lets the self root within community, without vanishing.
We were never meant to move this fast, or feel this much alone. The Gravity of Being Countless explores how we lost our sacred rhythm—and what it might take to return.