all the words matter.
Then Grandpa said firmly, “Kindred, the seeds need us just as much as we need them.”
So Kindred reluctantly got up from her napping spot underneath a most perfectly shady tree and followed her grandpa row by row placing seeds into the freshly tilled ground.
She said nothing, but her thoughts were loud and clear as she looked at me, head tilted, lips pursed, eyes piercing.
Chatting isn’t idle; it’s informative. It quickly gets to the nuts and bolts, skipping the how-are-you-but-I’m-not-listening fluff and jumping right into what matters as they take stock of life from their perches in the evergreens.
So often we try to condense our world into bullet points. It’s easier that way until it’s not. Our lives are a mess of complex pieces and the words we use to sort through them are each important to our ability to see ourselves and see each other. I’m crafting a podcast space called wordhabit,…
i’m determined to speak briefly, say enough and no more. i have a bad habit of rambling on and on and on… and it’s not b/c i’m a woman. i think it’s a matter of finding my voice late and finding authority in my voice even later. so i’ve got a lot to catch up…
impressed. i feel impressed to say… believe. i believe that you are… think. i think that you should… (insert excrement from the body of a huge cud-chewing male mammal) who told us that we have to always know what to say? how dare we believe it? yes, sometimes SOMETIMES we have the right words at…
i just spelled journey that way. yes. i did it. as i excitedly typed away at my exegesis paper, i spelled g-e-r-n-y as the voice in my head said journey. yes. yes, i did it. yes, yes, i can make mistakes. yes i can