Community Blog
These posts were all written by someone in a Soul Writing group or workshop in ten minutes or less—really!
Not only that, what you read is virtually unedited from the original, timed writing. Several pieces often have the same title since groups write together on one prompt. Join us anytime to try it out for yourself. For now, happy reading.
The true test begins (shit’s getting real)
I'm taken aback by the snakes on the path. Emerald green, with fierce red eyes. They symbolize all that I am still to experience on this road to independence.
The whole picture
If I could fly up like a bird and see the whole picture -- the whole sad and complicated picture -- maybe I would know what to do. Maybe I could put my arms around it.
Swimming beneath my thoughts I find …
Rabbits. Everywhere. They’ve hopped into my life as a logo on the bottle of my favorite wine from Cyprus. They’ve squeaked at me through their prairie cousins the pikas from out of the Discovery Channel. But most often I see them simply standing, ears erect, wide silent eyes watching over our back lawn, like small stoic sentinels.
A child’s drawing
1972. My mother sits at her drawing table. She is wearing blue shirt and blue jeans. I stand next to her and peek over her shoulder. She looks up at me and smiles. She is working in ink.
When all else falls away
It’s a start – being able to lock eyes, if only for a short time, with all the deeply buried insecurities, all the lies I heard and internalized, instead of swatting them away like flies – removing myself from their incessant, maddening buzzing, as I so wish I had done.
That’s life
That's life, always changing. Growing and dying. Making noise. Wanting attention. And even if you don't pay attention -- it just does its thing. A clamor, or a soft chime. Whatever -- it just keeps going.
Say my name
I am from the deep past, the deep earth, the raiding Vikings and the Pict folk who knew their Mother was Nature and their Father was Time.
Say my name
My name is not yours, my essence not for the taking. Tune to my frequency if you wish. Dance to its music, but don’t sweep it off the table into your handbag and disappear into the night.
Say my name
My name is also often mispronounced. Not slaughtered, but just the wrong name. “Ah-na” like I am some proper British royalty, not “Anna” with my nasal-y Chicago “aa”.
Say my name
Once upon a time, before every other baseball player from any Latin country had my same last name, people used to mispronounce it…
Say my name
When I swore in to become a U.S. citizen, the judge asked: “Do you want to change your name? Many of your compatriots do. They become David, Charles, and Sam. Not Dung and Phuc and such.”
Say my name
Don't sing it, please. Yes, my parents named me after that Beatles song. But honestly, that's never meant much to me.
When I look in the mirror…
When I look in the mirror, I see lines / Frown lines / Laugh lines / Furrowed brow lines / 50 years of “life” lines / They say more than meets the eye
When I look in the mirror…
When I look in the mirror, I see my father. I see his hairline, his eyes, his nose, his chin. I see the dark shadows that are not there, only behind his eyes. I see secrets that he kept.
It’s a weird world
A basket of oranges sits before me and I wonder / What would it be like if the world was an orange?
Much to my surprise…
Much to my surprise, I cannot make a decision. Nor can I take anyone's good advice. Plenty of freedom, plenty of choices. And yet, here I sit.
What has always been here
This feels like a question. / Go to my heart. / The key is pretty obvious, it’s under the planter with the rosemary. / Let yourself in.
When I get really, really quiet …
Hold on, let me try it. / A rhyme is a steel hot monkey bar rung. / A heartbeat.
I want to tell you a story
Where I grew up, the trees had leaves and no needles. There were evergreen and didn’t turn gold or red. Their leaves dropped off although you never seemed to notice.
My greatest joy
My greatest joy is coming home again. Home isn't perfect. When I'm here, sometimes, the first things I see are what's undone.