Thanksgiving can be a tough time for people. I lost my father almost six years ago, and his birthday often falls on Thanksgiving (this year it’s the day before), so I always miss the way he’d finagle my leftover turkey sandwich out of my hot, little hands and into his. Many of you miss loved ones on Thanksgiving - or the holiday reminds you of the person who abandoned you - or the husband that betrayed you - or the perfect mother you never had. It’s easy to let Thanksgiving devolve into a pityfest.

I don’t know a lot about relationships. I’ve had the good, the bad, the ugly, and the confusing. I’ve had good that went bad, and bad that went good. Some last a while, and others fall away all-too-soon. Sometimes there’s a reason and sometimes there isn’t. They’re only commonality is that they are all unique.

Letting it in

It came through me like a powerful wind.  I looked down at my hands and noticed I was no longer in complete control.  Certainly I was allowing it to happen.  But the words were writing themselves.  Whatever was coming out was now flowing through me, not from me.  I felt that if I paused, this wave of inspiration would be gone forever.  I raced to keep up with it. 

Who doesn’t love a good cry?

Turns out a lot of people don’t. Of course, there are safe spaces where we can own our tears … workshops, retreats, support groups, the Pink Posse. But there is still much of the world where the sight of someone crying will send an entire room into a silent panic.