Hitting my head against the wall.
Doing the same thing over and over and expecting the result to be different.
Spinning my wheels.
There are so many ways to describe the phenomenon of being stuck in a problem. It’s real, it’s common and it’s frustrating. Relationships. Weight. Kids. Coworkers. We seem to live with chronic stress and have often given up on finding a way out. Read more…
It feels like an eternity. We are late getting to the bus stop, and the automatic gate at the end of our drive is taking its sweet time opening, as usual. I swear, it takes at least 10 SECONDS to open. I’m tapping the steering wheel and muttering, “Come ON!”
Then, of course, trying to turn right onto the busy highway in front of our house is a nightmare. I have to wait for at least 12 CARS – a whole other minute down the tubes.
I finally peel out, gravel flying behind me, and speed towards the bus stop, watching the minutes on my car clock tick away. 8:15. My heart sinks. I pull up just as the bus is pulling away. I try to follow it, but get stopped at the red light. We’ve missed it. And, of course, I’m due at a vet appointment at the exact same time school starts.
Many days, I’m living in the gap. This isn’t a good thing. Read more…
“I went around saying for a long time that I am not one of those Christians who are heavily into forgiveness – that I’m one of the other kind. “ – Anne Lamott
Does this surprise you about me? It shouldn’t. In fact, I think most of us have a hard time with forgiveness, especially when it comes to forgiving ourselves. Read more…
I’m barreling down the interstate at 75mph on a perfect 75 degree spring day, hauling my horse behind me. I’m driving my truck, Ricky Bobby (my Ford 150 that is one of my great loves ), and singing along to George Strait playing on the oldies country hits station. It dawns on me, in that minute, that I am living my childhood dream.
I grew up in rural southern New Mexico. I actually lived on a farm with assorted animals: goats, chickens, peacocks, horses, a steer, rabbits…you name it. My dad was on a horse before he could walk and made sure we were, too. I come from a long line of horsemen and ranchers. There are family whispers that a one great grandfather was a horse thief, and another shot a horse for losing a race. You could say that horses and The Wild West run deep in my blood, but unfortunately; I showed no interest in them as a kid. Try as he may, my dad couldn’t convince me to put down a book long enough to go outside and ride. Read more…
I am drawn like a moth-to-the-flame to successful, driven people. They fascinate me. Uber-disciplined CEOs, scientists, corporate career women, renowned software developers, athletes…this is my inner circle of closest friends. They all wake up, setting the world on fire with their ideas and work ethic, and then manage to have families, stay in shape and maintain friendships.
I am…how shall we say… a combination of hippie, highly opinionated French woman, and rough outdoorsman. Picture flower-child meets Annie Oakley meets Marion Cotillard, and they have a love child who is a whiskey connoisseur. I can be found reading poetry and listening to French music in the mornings, hauling a load of hay and shoveling a corral of horse manure in the afternoons, and dancing at a hip hop class in the evenings. I write. I ride horses. I cook gourmet food, a lot. In short, I do whatever strikes my fancy with great joie de vivre. I despise schedules and striving. Read more…
I normally try to stick to original content, but this video sums up in pictures and a few words how I feel about a topic near and dear to my heart. I couldn’t say it any better.
~Deb
“One of the most beautiful qualities of true friendship is to understand and to be understood.”
~Lucius Anneaus Seneca
What a wonderful surprise to be going along in life, and one day, to have a friend drop into your lap…one who always has a word of encouragement, a challenge, a fun song to share, or a goofy story. Life brings so many challenges and heartaches, but sometimes it makes up for it in the form of a lovely person to share the journey. Read more…
It is 7am and 10 degrees. I am sitting outside on the east side of my house, bundled up in a coat and blanket. I position my body so that the sun is directly in my face, its strongest rays beaming right into the center of my forehead, the place of the third eye.
The rays bore through my head and begin to fill my mind with streams of liquid gold. I feel these streams of light running through the spaces and flowing down through the rest of my body, breaking through blocks of anger, sadness, selfishness, and unbelief. They leave in their wake illumination and warmth. I open my eyes and the snow dances with crystalline brilliance; the long shadows cast by the trees seem alive. I reach up and touch my forehead, convinced there is an actual hole there. Read more…
I am not Catholic, but often find myself at a Friday morning mass looking for peace or some word…mostly, to be close to my Grandma, who has lived in heaven for some time. I carry her little pink rosary when I go– it’s like a talisman against all my doubts and fear. When I start panicking that “Omg, I’m in church! I don’t know if I even believe in God!,” I run my fingers over the tiny pink beads and the face of the Blessed Virgin, and hear Grandma’s voice telling me to just sit. Be quiet. Escucha a tu Corazon…Listen to your heart. Read more…