Things Life Could Use More Of


Animal crackers

Spontaneous singing


Fuzzy socks

Random bursts of happiness

Warm bread

Picture books

Little ridiculous things that can make a room full of strangers suddenly start laughing together like friends




A Letter to Fear

Dear Fear,

You’ve always been here for as long as I can remember. You’ve really grown on me. With every crisis we face together, we become more inseparable. Every time the world around me shatters or caves in, when the dust clears and I am left alone in the silence of uncertainty, you are there. And you help me as I slowly begin to put the world back together, piece by piece. You tell me what it should look like. What it does look like. And I build it that way.

You are always there to keep me safe and warn me of what could happen. You tell me not to risk rejection or injury. When I reach for something that could be dangerous, you remind me of the scars on my hands from where the shattered pieces of the world cut them. Don’t open your hands or the scars might bleed again.

Sometimes I think you do too much. You hold me too tight. When we rebuild the world together, you paint it in darker colors than I remember.

You say you are keeping me safe, holding me like this. You say you do this because you care about me. But do you know that my lungs are caving in? I can’t even breathe like I used to.

You are so close to me I don’t even know where you end and I begin. I guess this is because you don’t end.

Sometimes I think what you feel for me is beyond just caring. And it’s not love. It’s possession.

You have always said you would never leave me, no matter what. You said I would never have to be alone, because in the moments when I am most alone, you are always there for me.

But I think maybe I would like you to stop being there. I want you to let go of me and leave me alone. I want to trade your company for the ability to breathe again.

You can leave me alone now. I’ll be ok.


I can say this. I can say it over and over. But all the time I’m saying it, I am the one clinging to you.

Because I don’t want to be left alone,


Sincerely Yours,


The World Through My Eyes

The world through my eyes looks different than it really is.

Sometimes it’s a bit darker.


Or Smaller.


More frightening.

Less welcoming.

Sometimes it’s blurry.


Covered by a film of salt water.

Starting to dissolve.


But I live for the times when I see the world as a little brighter.


Or smaller.


Full of possibility.

More embracing.

Overflowing with a thousand different kinds of beautiful.



Full of simple vibrant existence.


Summer Umbrella

I think I should like an umbrella.

Not the sort that keeps the rain off.

I should like a different sort of umbrella. A summer umbrella.

An umbrella to hold over my head on hot days when the sun is melting down my neck and the air is thick with heat.

An umbrella to hide under when it’s so hot that I don’t want to move.

I should like an umbrella to keep the sun off, but not just that.

I should like an umbrella that would rain on me.


Putting the World Back Together

I’m sorry I can’t fix everything

I can’t put the world back together

because the pieces are magnetic

but both negitive

or positive

pushing away from each other

refusing to touch


This is the world I live in

a world that spins

or falls

in tight spirals of chaos

like a yo-yo

and I can’t stop it


But I’ll do what I can

to help you

to save you

even when I think the yo-yo string is going to snap

and we are never coming back up


Even when all I can do is listen

Even when I have nothing to say

no way to reach you with words or thoughts

because you are so beyond me in your pain


When I have nothing else

I will give you handfuls of sunshine


And maybe we’ll be ok




Important Questions

When I sing to the night sky at the top of my lungs, can the stars hear me?

Are moon craters really the holes of giant lunar gophers?

Do trees consider being made into paper the highest honor?

Do books fall in love with their own stories?

Would my dog recognize me if I time traveled to ten years in the future?

Do clocks ever wish they could stop?

Does my reflection ever get bored of looking at me?


Will I ever know any of the answers?