Category: Angst

Angst:

Stories that get mixed up, that feel out of place, that confuzzle the soul.

I Still Want to Talk to You

Hey you… Yes you. The one who moves away from me. The one who lives in a different mind now. The one who has rearranged the world. Hey you. I want you to know that I still want to talk to you. Not to just anybody. Not to fill some void. Not just to any…

Suddenly, and Again – #Reverb13 Day One

On my tripwire connections of mind, body and soulHow do you feel, on this first day, in your mind? In your body? In your heart? In your soul?   First, I feel like saying “Oh my goodness hello and I’m sorry!” If there is anyone out there who has been counting on me to blog…

What We Did in Summer

Aniah and The Swimming Pool

My memory of my youth is a haze of fine particulate.I don’t remember what I did in the summer as a kid. Not specifically. I remember that I played outside with the neighbor kids and my siblings. We rode bikes and ran around. I went on vacation with my family. There was the library and…

Our Memories Become Theirs

At the beginning of my parenting experience, I said “no” often. The noise and the mess was a lot to handle. Not to mention the plain issue of just keeping track of where all the little live bodies were in space and time. And what they were planning to put in their mouth at that…

I Submit to You This Broken Heart

I submit to you this broken heart. A year ago, I (unintentionally!) kicked a little snowball down a snowy hill, and I discovered how cold and mean life can be. I am awfully terrible at telling personal stories, and since this story has intertwined a few other hearts of people I love, I am not…

My Friend, with Existential Chickens

I have a super great old friend from college, Jen. She’s a writer (here’s her book) and a journalist. And a mom. She lives in Des Moines and recently she acquired chickens. She and her husband and her kids have chickens in their backyard.  Do you ever look at your friends, when they do something…

If I Were Not Awake

If I were not awake before my alarm, I would have missed this delicate lavender sunrise, which isn’t all that different than any other perfect sunrise I’ve seen in the past, except that today it reminded me that being awake is the point, after all.

We want… More Time

Last night, when the kids were tucked sweetly in footie pajamas and in bed, I started racing through a list of things I wanted to get done before I hit the hay myself. The list looked something like this: do dishes sort through 5 bins of summer clothes write blog post make contact with other…

A Dry Time

You ever get a bit of time where you feel like you are just dry out of ideas? I never seem to be out of ideas, but it seems like lately I keep hitting a wall of no. The wall of no has quite a few people sitting on top of it, their hairy legs…

The Day, Stripped Down

If you ask this question, I answer: Wake up, Kiss cheeks, Move sheets up to pillows Move aside blinds. (Daylight must have its way). Eat food. Water from a tap. Frozen bagels scorched In that metal box. Spread plates around the Craigslist table. Brush crumbs from cheeks. Get dressed. Move the hampers to move The…

On Being Underscheduled

Ahhh. Today was one of those most perfect days. I was so happy because my zen-wonderful brother-in-law/sister-in-law and their kids were visiting. They have such a nice way of arriving with their own unplanned, unhurried, not-worried manner. They are — or seem to be — just quite happy to hang out at our house and…

Lean In

There has been a small book on my bedside table for a couple months now. I opened it once, and after that I did not touch it. The book actually doesn’t seem to sit or even lie on the table. It seems to hover— held aloft from the earth and all its possessions from the…

How To Write Around It

Yesterday in class, my student Mike had clearly lost faith. I didn’t know why. But I could see that he was lost. I had asked the entire class to write for a page in response to the question: “Who are you in a group?” followed by “What do you fear about working in  groups?” They…

I’m Not Writing from the Heart

I just stopped by this blog by one of my favorite tweeps, @ArtemisRetreats, and I realized I feel like a fake. That’s right, I am a big, neverending puff of hot air. My blog is supposed to be this place where I can just write from the center of me, where I can change and…