Rain! The beautiful, the wild, the vast – the undaunted.
Its sound is like that of what the concordance of a starting and ending point of life may sound like,
If there ever was one.

Lo it rocks its shaky head, and flails on strings pulled taught –
To come down evenly upon mankind –
To suppress its every thought.
On while we wait, and watch, and pray –
We hold too dear to heart –
The very essence of rainkind,
The reality we never started.

Father’s Day Frenzy

Is Father’s Day hard for you? I feel that. Not everyone has the iconic dream father that seems to be infiltrating our society in this day and age. Sure, most of us share in some popular traditions – the grill out with pops, the dinner as a family; if you have more of a one-on-one thing going, it may be just you and your dad sharing the check. But here’s something a lot of us don’t think about (unless of course, you’re one of these people): Father’s Day can be a time of serious meditation for many people. Here’s the skinny, and I don’t mind admitting it: sure, I’ve had plenty of grill outs with my old man, but they weren’t exactly Facebook worthy.

Now, we can understand the difficulty of Father’s Day for folks whose fathers have passed away. We know that, inarguably, there’s a great loss in fathers who have left. There are many of us who don’t even know our biological father – let alone have been blessed with an adopted father (if you don’t know your dad, it’s harder to get a new one than you may think). But even so, there’s another type of Father’s Day frenzy we often take for granted. What about the broken father-child relationships?

Let me make something clear: I don’t know my dad, but I love my dad. I try to think about the positive things he has done and the wise things he has said. Yes, I have to exercise caution, but I don’t let that keep me from appreciating the good. I think we all have at least one person like this in our life – someone who has deeply hurt us or tested the measure of our love, but we know we must remain true to them and bless them anyway. Now that I’m a woman, I may no longer grill out with my dad on Father’s Day, but I still send him a text to tell him that I love him and ask if he’s doing well.

Although a lot of us may not care to admit it, I believe more people struggle with a broken father-child relationship than we can spot with the naked eye. For me, Father’s Day has always been a day to ponder the purpose of life. The truth is that you can feel confused about not having something many other people have, or you can pull up your bootstraps and ask what it can teach you. We can’t all have everything, and the world doesn’t owe us anything. By realizing this, we can harness even the things we don’t have – not only for our own enhancement, but for the world’s. I have questions nearly every holiday season. Questions like: “Why am I different?” “What does life have in store for me that required I need a different experience?” “How can I find and help others who are feeling the same way?” “How can I make this simply something that is unique, and not something that is ‘bad,’ per say?”

So if you’re reading this blog post and know what I’m talking about, here’s one to you: Happy Father’s Day to everyone out there who can’t say “Happy Father’s Day” without asking questions. It’s ok to ask questions. It’s ok to realize you’re different. It’s ok to be ok with that. But even if your dad is not superhero material, send him a text today and tell him you still love him.

Love you all so much (xoxo),


Finding Life

I could work to fulfill dreams
Dedicate my life to something nonexistent
But sooner or later
We’ve gotta let go of preconceived notions
Of who we’ve never been
I take the first step outside
Breathe in, breathe out
Now let the world do the rest
We’re not men of who we are
We’re men of what we do next
It’s not about what we like
Or what we’re interested in
It’s about who we meet
On the street
Who makes us want in
And we can never know what will happen today
Until after billions of different people have created it
There’s no dream
And there’s no you
There’s only a room
And a block of play-dough
The world will try to tell you to do your part
Try to tell you to be who you were made to be
But they’re too scared to know a you who can make your own decisions
They hold a model
Shove your face into a canvas and tell you to paint
But if I could just burn the model
Burn my expectations
Burn my ideas of what may or may be within my level of experience
Just start painting
Just see what happens
Just move the brush
Until they make me drop it
We’ll see if I can be the next Leonardo da Vinci
You can keep your internet print-out color page
I’ll paint all over the walls if I want to
And the ceiling
And the floor
All over my own body if it should happen that way
You’ll call me a monster
You’ll call me insane
You’ll call me crazy
Just like you told anyone else who ever made a difference in this world

Star Dance

Imagine if the stars were


and they fell down from the

onto earth

And we stood

at night

and we danced.

Coming down –

on strings
of joy –

falling like the rain.
they never ended
they just stayed coming –

This is like my love for you.
It is love




The star dance;
The heavens.
The universe makes exceptions

for believers.