“Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves, like locked rooms and like books that are now written in a very foreign tongue. Do not now seek the answers, which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them. And the point
“San Francisco itself is art, above all literary art. Every block is a short story, every hill a novel. Every home a poem, every dweller within immortal. That is the whole truth.” ~William Saroyan February is usually a month I dread (although that’s changed a bit since meeting my husband and celebrating his birthday that
Is it just me or do the year-in-review, best of and other year-end related articles and blog posts seem to come out earlier and earlier each year? I swear I was reading the best of 2019 everything in like October this year and, while I get that everything kind of takes a break in the
I had plans to spend each day in September focused on me — not in a selfish way, but in a self-care + act-of-self-love way. I prepared by creating a list of possible methods for focusing on me (aka, 30 days of me) and even made it so far as scheduling individual items on specific
I don’t recall exactly where (a book? a podcast?), but recently I was introduced to the concept of slashes — which is to say we are not just “one thing” but a combination of many. For example, when meeting someone new, often one of the first questions that pop into the conversation is “what do
For the first 36 years of my life — or, at least for as long as I can recall having any specific feelings about a month — I dreaded February. The excitement of the new year has passed. The initial allure I feel for winter is long gone and I’m left feeling, well, just cold. Spring
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