technology & inner transformation
“All Zoomed out.” It’s a phrase I hear often lately. It describes the way a person feels after hours or days of Zoom meetings, fixated… Read More »technology & inner transformation
Hannah Lynn Mell grew up a missionary kid in Kailua-Kona, Hawaii. Now she lives in Amesbury, Massachusetts with her exquisitely kind husband David, their plucky three-legged cat Thomas, and a needy-yet-lovable dachshund named Birdie. She's worked with singers since 1998 and loves to help people of all ages free their voices. She's currently earning a Master of Social Work degree with the hope of using creative, expressive modalities in clinical settings.
“All Zoomed out.” It’s a phrase I hear often lately. It describes the way a person feels after hours or days of Zoom meetings, fixated… Read More »technology & inner transformation
In August we traveled to Pennsylvania to meet our new niece, Naomi Renee. I cannot imagine a happier little being. And why not? She was… Read More »seeing and seen
I didn’t really want to go anywhere that Friday night. I wanted to put on my pajamas and curl up on the couch with David… Read More »dancing with myself
A reflection on Rainer Maria Rilke’s poem: This press of time We set the pace. But this press of time — take it as a… Read More »touch the holy
Let me confess, and please don’t laugh. I thought I’d be famous by now. In second grade Ms. Sylvia Bent told me that she’d read… Read More »secret dream
A week ago I lay flat on the floor. My back had gone out and my chiropractor appointment was several hours away. What did I… Read More »throwing rocks
I walk through the dizzying array of autumn splendor and I feel a lump in my throat. It’s a small fist of anxiety, stubbornly wedged… Read More »autumn anxiety
Today I looked back over the past five years, and I wrote down two versions of each year. For example, this is what I was… Read More »the stories I tell
The time of the Queen Anne’s lace is over. Summer is ending fast. Riding my bike, I watch the leaves begin to change. A single… Read More »flashes of color
I spent the weekend at beautiful Rowe Camp & Conference Center for a workshop. All weekend I saw swallowtail butterflies, yellow like embodied sunlight. Butterflies… Read More »black butterfly
I sit in the sun and wait for the shift to happen. The lilacs are nearly blooming. Their heart-shaped leaves flutter nonchalantly in the breeze,… Read More »shift
Every time I sit in a church service, I feel the occasional wave of uneasiness. What is it I’m doing here? Do I wish I… Read More »to church or not to church
I’ve wrestled with this for years, but the time has finally come. I need to tell the truth about who I am and what I… Read More »coming out of the closet
The sunlight gleams on the dirt-streaked bus window. The vinyl seat across the aisle glows. We flash past the snow and cattails. The fields and… Read More »winter bus ride
Some time ago, I dreamt of standing atop a small tower playing a big singing bowl. When you strike a singing bowl it resounds like… Read More »free song
Let’s say my time is fabric. Sometimes I am the scarf draped over the small altar where I sit for centering prayer. The scarf is… Read More »fabric of my days
Who are you? How is it you live within me and I within you, and still I am flummoxed by you? My heart’s cry is… Read More »seashore prayer
We don’t get to finish being courageous. We don’t take one brave leap, land with a gymnast’s flourish, and saunter impressively onward for the remainder… Read More »what courage looks like
The light changes in the corner. A bright rectangle is cast from the window on the other side of the room. Morning air is cool… Read More »changing light
I dream that the art teacher is unexpectedly leaving the school where we’ve taught. I’m not teaching there any longer, but I’m there when she… Read More »those ain’t my shirts
This is depression: walking the dog down beautiful paths where delight once thrummed through your veins, but feeling an ache in your throat instead. The… Read More »after the slog
When I was a child, I got into a bicycle accident: jaw broken in three places. A couple years later, when I tried riding again,… Read More »hands off
Blogging joined the ranks of other purposeful pleasures: swimming, practicing guitar, cross-stitching, braiding my hair. I stopped doing it for long enough that although I… Read More »six months after my last post
At midday Saturday the sun shone full into the kitchen window. I almost wished that I hadn’t done the dishes already, but that’s a silly thing… Read More »the storyless season
Today I listen to Yo-Yo Ma play Bach’s cello suites and I dance around the kitchen. I have lived most of my hours aiming to… Read More »adventures in uselessness
Your life is a poem, Naomi Shihab Nye says in the podcast. You have known this to be true, even if lately the stanzas of… Read More »Parking lot
In the dream, Bigfoot is skulking through a cave, and the Woman is trying to stop him from getting out. She is old and clever… Read More »Bigfoot and the Woman
Today the sky is an apt metaphor. There is plenty of light to see, but clouds have covered over the blue. I look up and… Read More »clouds and wind
Gracious God, please tell me again that I do not have to be Great. Tell me that breathing my way through the day is a… Read More »Monday morning prayer
Each moment is a gift. Sometimes it’s a broad-daylight, tromping-through-the-woods, birds-singing, dog-cavorting, husband’s-hand-in-mine sort of gift. Other times the moment doesn’t look like a gift… Read More »wrapped
In honor of Martin Luther King Jr., here is a letter I wrote to myself in the fall. _________ 22 October 2015 dear Hannah, Please remember… Read More »life is a spell so exquisite, everything conspires to break it.
Usually David takes Kenneth (our beloved little Prius-C) in for tune-ups, but on December 19th I made the drive to Peabody. Perhaps hearts open a little… Read More »divine appointments & a tire rotation
First, a fun fact. It’s unlikely that anyone remembers this, but the last time I wrote a blog with “part one” in the title, I never wrote a… Read More »the marvelous mundane – part two
Every day the counters are dirtied. Every night the bed is unmade. In dark seasons I can’t keep up, and I become Sisyphus, pushing the… Read More »the marvelous mundane – part one
I woke very early and eased my body out of bed. The attic floorboards creaked beneath my careful feet. David slept soundly in the imperfect silence. The darkness of morning usually… Read More »candle or no candle
On a whim, I joined Olivia at Rockport Unitarian’s service on Sunday. I had no idea the beauty in store. I’d already been thinking about… Read More »to be of service
Late on a Saturday morning I take my mother’s hair between my fingers and begin to braid. Mom doesn’t like it when hair falls into… Read More »braiding my mother’s hair
For the third morning I wake very early. The silence of Rowley is thick and soft as a blanket. Today I do not even try… Read More »sublime chess game
I woke with a dozen tasks on my radar: curtains to hang, the office to organize, photo enlargements to order. We host our family next weekend,… Read More »the willow and me
Moving into David’s parents’ house was a no-brainer. We’d save on rent, have an easy commute to River Valley (where we’re both happily teaching now), and do Mark and… Read More »new home
Let me tell you how Gus the cat died. I promise later I will tell you how he lived. Our fifteen-year-old cat had been losing… Read More »a good death
I am standing in the doorway when I read Tony Hoagland’s poem. David and our niece and nephew are playing with toy cars and trucks and planes,… Read More »thank you, Tony Hoagland
I sit outside the Atomic Cafe, watching Sunday glide by. I can’t count the number of times I’ve sat here like this: sipping tea and typing,… Read More »this side of the street
The day I heard of Kim’s passing, I rode my bike to the beach and let the wind chill the tears on my cheeks. The… Read More »the kindness of Kim
The blue jay spread wide his wings and restored me to myself. The spare room is too cold for yoga, and the cat had spent the night… Read More »window
On the last day of 2014, I repotted our peace lily. Its leaves had been turning brown, one by one, despite my careful placement (indirect sunlight,… Read More »repotted and it feels so good
As I walked from the bike shop to the Atomic Café, it occurred to me: I am carrying too much. I’d filled my backpack with enough… Read More »a walk
September turns my heart to school. Not just the school where I teach now, but all the schools I’ve taught in and all the schools… Read More »back-to-transformation
In May of 2013, I unwittingly lost a glove from my bike basket on my ride to yoga class. When I discovered my loss, I… Read More »restoration: part one
One year ago, on a warm July morning, I woke up incredibly early to walk the beach. A few hours later I arrived in Rowley, Massachusetts, where… Read More »first year