The ability to share so much of our lives--and to seek fulfillment and acknowledgment from another person miles away behind a screen--is a double edged sword. Whenever we're bottling up ourselves and our lives and our loved ones into an Instagram feed or a blog, we need to be very careful.
What do you want out of life? For me, the answer to this question has always been small and big at the same time. I don't want a mansion. I don't want a big, shiny car. I don't want to be president, or to walk on the moon, or even to be anyone's boss. I … Continue reading On A Small, Good Life
What does your typical morning look like? If you're anything like me two months ago, it went like this: the alarm goes off. You snooze it. And snooze it again. And again. Finally, the dogs click-clack cheerfully into the room, demanding to be let out. You extract yourself from the sweaty, sweet nest of your … Continue reading On Habits
A couple of week ago I was driving to pick Jordan up from the university after he'd spent a long couple of days out in the field, and a thunderstorm broke right overtop me. In seconds, the highway had disappeared beneath a glistening sheath of water, and the windshield roared with rain. It was simultaneously … Continue reading June
Being a parent is not what I expected. The word parent is so boring. So blasé. Commonplace, even. Before becoming one, I pictured ill fitting jeans, responsibility, and the exhaustion of serving up mundanity to my children day after live-long day. As far as words go, parent was the opposite of romance in my brain. It was … Continue reading On the Sweeping Emotions of Parenthood
We woke to slate grey skies and helterskelter leaves flapping violently on their twigs in the trees. Jenna and I had been having a celebratory post-MCAT sleep over (complete with sticky buns, Oreos, Tarzan, and the Office) and as she rolled over to check her phone, her eyes got wide. "There's a tornado warning!" she … Continue reading On the business of survival
I'm not a very independent person. Ever since I was little, I remember feeling anxious when my parents dropped me off alone somewhere--whether it was at the barn for my weekly riding lesson, or at a friend's house. Little things gave me butterflies: ordering food at a restaurant, knocking on doors (even when the occupants … Continue reading On Independence