dancing with myself
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
the seasons
secret dream
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
throwing rocks
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
autumn anxiety
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
the stories I tell
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
flashes of color
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
shift
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
to church or not to church
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
winter bus ride
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
what courage looks like
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
changing light
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
the storyless season
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
clouds and wind
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
life is a spell so exquisite, everything conspires to break it.
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.
the marvelous mundane – part one
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
candle or no candle
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
to be of service
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
sublime chess game
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
this side of the street
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 kindness of Kim
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
window
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
repotted and it feels so good
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
a walk
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
first year
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
fruition
Sometimes events you’ve been waiting for happen all at once. Thursday, May 15th was a day of great fruition. Early in the morning I… Read More »fruition
the intersecting space
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
after the burning
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
walk, linger, love
Vespa came to me in my dreams last night, wanting a walk. She wagged her tail and moaned her emphatic morning song, and off we… Read More »walk, linger, love
conditions for joy
High time I fess up: my plan for the year failed. I came here with the dream of investing time in my writing: submitting essays,… Read More »conditions for joy
2013 Thanksgiving newsletter
It’s the second morning of December. True to form, I started a Thanksgiving newsletter before Thanksgiving but didn’t finish it in time. I’ve cherished grand… Read More »2013 Thanksgiving newsletter
Thanksgiving morning
Thanksgiving morning. We wake to a text from Mom, who misses me. Next comes toast in the hotel lobby with David and his dad Mark.… Read More »Thanksgiving morning
tree roots and laundry
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
Wichitastic
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
groundlessness and tea
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
not yet
Two weeks ago I rode against the wind to teach my second yoga class at Truesdell Middle School. News flash, Toto: sometimes in Kansas, the… Read More »not yet
dear Quentin
Dear Quentin, Happy August! I miss your songs and stories. Remember how we used to find luminous, common things on the playground at recess? I… Read More »dear Quentin
the Sun and the shower
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
all the colors
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
70 miles per hour
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
the Monday after
Last Monday morning I planned to write about Vespa the dog. While my friends the Worsfolds take their customary April trip, I inhabit their home… Read More »the Monday after
looking back
Looking back, you’ll want to be able to say that you walked in all kinds of weather. You’ll want to know that you caught the… Read More »looking back
the momentous in-between
On my walk to the beach I snap pictures of other people’s yards. Winter and spring coexist right now, and for all my talk… Read More »the momentous in-between
turning toward the light
I’ve never felt happier to sweep the floor. I’ve put it off for weeks and weeks. Shiny hardwood keeps secrets better than most surfaces, and… Read More »turning toward the light
the definition of darkness
My hips slide out of place for the second week in a row. “It’s been very mild both these times,” says my chiropractor after I… Read More »the definition of darkness
new and not-so-new
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
profusion
Okay, sulky self. You woke up still sick, but you might as well get out of bed. Put on your sneakers and your hat. The… Read More »profusion
the cure for unwanted weather
The cure for unwanted weather is immersion. You envisioned a scenic drive to New Hampshire but woke to interminable drizzle? Snap pictures from the driver’s… Read More »the cure for unwanted weather
keep watching
The day after David and I got engaged, I rode my bike out to Salem to walk a friend’s dog. A host of purple-gray clouds… Read More »keep watching
return of the moofie
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
summer slips away
I’ve been carrying the sadness of summer’s end on my shoulders like a shawl I’ll need in winter. More than any other season, summer intimates… Read More »summer slips away