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
“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
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
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
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
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
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
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
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
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
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.
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
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
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
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
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
I have an hour till David comes home with our niece and nephew. An hour to clean up from lunch and water the plants and type the emails… Read More »another (brief) lesson in surrender
When Cora asked me to help with Girls Group, I almost said no. For one thing, I earn money by teaching after-school yoga classes and… Read More »the intersecting space
Here’s the guest post I wrote for my friend Catherine’s blog: some of the gifts of this challenging year in Wichita. http://catherineannehawkins.com/hannahs-in-between-guest-post/ Special thanks to… Read More »after the burning
We play dozens of games when we get together with Joy and the kids. We play Mario in our jammies; we pull out cribbage once… Read More »in the game
Stuart the duck perched atop the valentine David made. I walked into the kitchen this morning to find all three of them (Stuart, the valentine,… Read More »stay in tune (and other love advice from children)
The roads were icy Sunday morning. The car fishtailed a few times on the drive to church, so I developed a gentle rhythm. First gear… Read More »life, death, and faulty brake calipers
My friend Ralph Eckhardt sent this picture the other day. He wrote, “I had just been thinking about your latest Breathe Deep and praying for… Read More »tree roots and laundry
It’s a rainy morning in Wichita. Most of the colored leaves in the courtyard below our apartment still cling to their branches. The flags whip… Read More »Wichitastic
Waking up in the morning feels like the hardest thing I’ve ever done; maybe the hardest thing anybody has ever done. I might always feel… Read More »groundlessness and tea
So I’ve been teaching this yoga class. My beloved friend Jennie bequeathed it to me shortly after I met her, which was shortly after we… Read More »Hafiz, hula, and surrender
Ben, Joy, Ally and Jack will be here in less than three hours, but I’m sitting down in my untidy bedroom to write a blog… Read More »just so
I woke early Sunday morning, wearied by the ludicrous night visions only a bride-to-be must endure. A shower rinsed off the outermost layer of fretfulness.… Read More »the Sun and the shower
Weddings mean flowers, right? I’m sure most summer brides have already ordered their bouquets, but that item is still languishing on my to-do list. My… Read More »all the colors
Driving home from the Grub Street conference last Sunday, I worked my camera with my right hand and the steering wheel with my left. The… Read More »70 miles per hour
After the show, bouquets took over the apartment, preening above my life’s neglected minutia. Delphinium trumpeted above the half-written birthday cards and half-read letters; gerbera… Read More »short trip to the compost bucket
As a kid I used to sing my heart out while I washed the dinner dishes. I’d gaze at my ponytailed reflection in the window… Read More »like washing the dishes while singing your heart out
On the train home to Boston yesterday I gazed out the window at the new fallen snow. Celebrating my birthday with my family in Philadelphia… Read More »new and not-so-new
The month of November was shrouded in misery. Did teaching feel impossible because I was sick all month or was I sick all month because… Read More »in pain’s classroom
In honor of the new school year, I offer an essay I wrote last spring at a writing retreat offered by The Sun. Thanks to… Read More »source
Few people would set out to make moofies. I blundered into my first batch two weeks ago when I found myself with a bowl of… Read More »return of the moofie