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She Is Enough, She is Perfect

Trigger Warning: Mention of sexual assault and suicidal ideation *** I was born needing to be fixed. They didn’t have the fancy ultrasounds forty-some years ago, so I came out bloody and ready to breathe life into the world—except I could barely breathe. I was born disfigured; my lip was attached to the bottom of my nose and the roof of my mouth was exposed. I have only seen … [Read More]

Posts

When You Trust The Struggle (And Not The Work)

Remembrance Day was this week and here in Canada we wear poppies purchased from veteran groups to show support. I’ve had one pinned to my shirt at work all week. … [Read More]

The Red Couch: Once We Were Strangers Introduction

Those of us who want to serve others like programs and events. They have defined timelines and expected outcomes. We get to show up and give money or time to a … [Read More]

Posts

Layers of Story

I live in an old stone house. Its massive limestone walls so thick one can sit in the windowsills, cross legged. It has two front doors which no one can seem to … [Read More]

She

She holds me The spirit of me The mind of me The heart of me The guts of me   She Capable Phenomenal Regenerative Magical She I count on … [Read More]

Featured Stories

The Red Couch: No Other Gods Discussion

I knew the Rosary and the Ten Commandments before I knew the Pledge of Allegiance. I knew the Stations of the Cross before I ever heard we had a constitution of the United States. When we were little the priest caught my brothers drinking the holy water and … [Read More]

Why I Keep Returning To Palestine

Why do I keep returning to Palestine? Why, for the third year in a row, do I pack and board planes and change dollars into shekels? Why do I keep coming back to this place, and not Zanzibar or Paris or Morocco? I remember a conversation I had once with the … [Read More]

Sisters in Mental Illness: Healing Trauma Through Self Love

"Radical self love and radical self compassion is really one of the key ways to heal yourself from trauma. You have to release yourself. You have to choose yourself.” —Grace Sandra. This month, Shaley sits down with award-winning blogger and author Grace … [Read More]

Decolonization Is The Boldest Love Letter I Can Write

To accept the divine invitation to decolonize is to commit to writing the boldest love letter yet. But you won’t realize this for a while. At first you will feel your spirit brewing a dangerous cocktail of rage and lament. There is so much brokenness … [Read More]

Coming Undone

A couple of Christmases ago, one of my daughters gave me a fun gift—a small, gray corrugated board-in-a-frame with a set of white letters and numbers that can be snapped into place to make words or short phrases. I quickly sorted through the alphabet and … [Read More]

I Am Age

To say that I am ageless Implies that age does not matter Or should not matter Or I should hope and pray that it does not matter. As if aging is to be feared or avoided. Or erased. To be ageless means someone Somewhere Somehow Have erased the … [Read More]

Why I Read Controversial Books With My Kid

My seven-year-old daughter and I just finished reading The Hobbit by J.R.R. Tolkien. It took us all summer with stops and starts because of camping trips and visits with family. I was amazed at how engaged Bea was in the story since this was the first “capital … [Read More]

Wild Landscapes Wanted

By Patricia Alderman | Twitter: @patricialderman A small suburb of my hometown contains several homes designed by architect Frank Lloyd Wright. They were built in the 1940s when the area was completely rural; getting there meant you had to drive out to … [Read More]

Dismantle What You Must

About two hours from our city there is a provincial park that houses an old dam that has been abandoned for nearly 70 years. In 1951, a more efficient dam was built and this old one was shut down and partly dismantled. There are endless hiking paths to explore … [Read More]

An Untidy Story of Grief

Several years ago, I lost a deeply important person in my life. He was quite literally here one day and gone the next. In the hours that followed, shock eventually gave way to a grief that pulsed like an open wound—raw, aching, excruciating to even the … [Read More]