“You yourself told us that in the final analysis we are our own betrayers, playing Judas to our own Christ” ― Azar Nafisi, Reading Lolita in Tehran: A Memoir in Books Self-abandonment is exactly what it sounds like. Put me in a room with a thousand red flags, and even…

When I read about love, I form the words into pictures that I hang around my house. I take these snapshots into my every day and hold them up against the conversation I had with a stranger, or the text message that showed up a little too late. Sometimes I…

The week before my daughter died, she asked me to compile a list of 100 things I love — and why. She gave explicit instructions. She had a septic blood infection and was fading fast, so honestly, I think she forgot why she asked me to do this. She didn’t…

I wasn’t expecting her ashes to be heavy Not bone, like crumbled concrete, once tethered to the ground Only meant for use Laden with cracks and weary from everyday purpose No I expected them to be light Like paper words taking the wind Her wishes finally spoken Lifted with the…

I have hollowed out the hull This once sacred space — where Every breath was guaranteed. The truth is, I’m shipwrecked Lost in a desert sea so bone dry I’ve lost the rhythm of movement altogether There is some solice in the story of the stars Hanging in the Heavens…

It seems that I usually find the trail of breadcrumbs leading to my destination after I’ve already arrived. Oddly, something about that is comforting. Maybe because mostly, it seems we are bumbling through this life, and that feels terrifying to me. I like to think that purpose exists even when…

I took my daughter to the ER today. The ambulance came and I rode with her to the hospital. I watched as they moved her in a chair towards the stretcher, her head forward, hanging loosely. Her body limp and heavy. I had this thought. This is traumatic. And that…

Life is relentless. This moment — lived and stretched into the next — is always anticlimactic. Even the horrors of life seem surreal, suspended, then washed away with the moments that follow. We just, all of us, keep moving. No matter what. And the mundane follows each terrific step like…

I don’t know how to trust my feelings anymore. — I have been trying to get over a breakup now for 5 months. About a month ago, I was talking to a girlfriend about it and feeling stupid for still being so sad. I honestly expected her to give me “getting over it” advice, but she didn’t. Instead, she named…