I took a step outside. Breathed in the scent of the spring-visited woods. And I just kind of knew deep inside that life would work itself out.


I made myself an extra cup of coffee, on a day where I felt out of touch. Couldn’t remember what I was doing for three seconds together that day. The coffee didn’t really help that much, but, if only a little bit, it got me by.


I slept in too late and lunch and breakfast were one and the same. Everything was late that day. Somehow, through all of that, I felt a profound sense of acceptance. I’m allowed to make mistakes. I’m allowed to be okay.


That day, the greening country road was as pretty as the idea of getting home, slipping off my boots, and making myself a cup of tea. Maybe even a little prettier.


There have been days that I didn’t get dressed until three in the afternoon, but somehow doing it anyway reminds me that I’m still fighting. Even if it takes me a while, sometimes, to pick up my sword.


Thunder late at night. I forgot what thunder sounded like until lightning reminded me of the concept. Loud, as though it was in my head and not just outside my window. Reminders of childlike fears when you can’t go to sleep because you’re afraid of what you don’t understand; of what’s hidden when the lightning leaves.




There are gentle raindrops on the car window and that always makes me think. Everyone is blessedly quiet and the rainfall builds until water is cascading down and everyone is just blessedly quiet and that always makes me think.


A little bow in my hair became all the whimsy I needed to get by.


Late, late at night, when your half of the world is dreadfully quiet, and there seems to be nobody… Well, there’s one person I can always whisper my little worries and ideas and God-dreams to. And get a whisper back, when I finally pause for breath.


A story in my pocket. A story I’ve been working on for months. A new story. I have fresh dreams and fresh plans and a fresh hope to keep anything from going stale. It’s good to keep stories in your pockets.


People buy flowers sometimes and it’s so odd, but somehow so necessary to get by.


The day when I sat and laughed until my bones ached and kept laughing still just because it felt so good to be alive and I didn’t think I ever wanted to stop. I was laughing over absolutely nothing.


4 thoughts on “Snapshots

  1. OHMYGOODNESS SO MAD AT MYSELF. I thought that I was subscribed to your blog by email, and apparently I am not! I HAVE SO MANY BEAUTIFUL BROOKIE POSTS TO CATCH UP ON.
    You are such a precious human!

    Liked by 1 person

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