I’m okay. And so are you. (a pep talk)

Without the dark there isn’t light. Without the pain there is no relief.

I have a confession to make: I routinely email my favorite authors detailing all the dramas of my personal life.

Let me explain.

Continue reading “I’m okay. And so are you. (a pep talk)”

Gap year update #1: Dancing to Smells Like Teen Spirit. Or, August.

I get to start the day at 8am by kissing my mom on the forehead. I can proceed to open all the windows and light all the candles: Not Your Mama’s Fudge. Lavender. Sherlock’s Study.

If I feel particularly inspired, I sit down at my desk to pen this story. And why not? I have all the time in the world.

Continue reading “Gap year update #1: Dancing to Smells Like Teen Spirit. Or, August.”

Dear first-year, me too.

Dear first-year.

I’m a little bit— okay, a lot— in love with Glennon Doyle these days. (Sorry, Abby Wambach). In search of some soul soup, I started listening to the Super Soul Sunday podcast. Every Sunday or so, Oprah Winfrey invites all these spiritual leaders and visionaries to her house under the oak trees and asks them scary questions like, “What does God mean to you?” and “Walk me through the most traumatic thing that’s ever happened to you so we can all learn how to be this Hulk strong,” etc. There’s researchers, comedians, priests, nuns, old presidents, TV anchors, the Office stars, and pretty much anyone who ever struck Oprah a certain way because when you’re rich and famous you can sap wisdom from anyone you want.

Continue reading “Dear first-year, me too.”