In which you are a beloved warrior

Who do you think you are? It’s the lie that whispers like smoke, breathes down our necks, and dismantles our vision and hope. How odd that a simple question can sound more like an accusation. Who do you think you…

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In which it snows in the morning

Wake up to a brighter bedroom, the snow has been falling outside all night. Take a lazy look around the room, look at the life it is reflecting back to you: a sturdy homemade bed; tangled and worn white sheets;…

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In which we plant gardens in South Africa

Blogging has made the world seem small to me, like we’re all a big family, but it’s made my world expand, too. Now it feels so normal to know and love people – not causes, not projects, not pictures, not…

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