Story Search

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I am searching for stories.

People ask “What do I want to write about?”

“A wide range of topics, spirituality, nature, conflict resolution” is my reply.

I am challenged to narrow down what I want to write about. I see stories everywhere. The wide range can be overwhelming, so inclusive it’s almost impossible to select one specific moment. I am aware of specific moments that expand and include generations.

Words, that begin with one meaning, then change. An action that brings about one feeling, then changes.

Hearing, over and over “Lord, I am not worthy. Just say the word and I am healed.” Hearing that, feeling humble, part of a sinful community. Over and over. Inflicted by male, white, celibate leaders.

Then, one day, hearing the words. Feeling sick, toxic, angry that those words had formed and institutionalized beliefs of unworthiness. Over and over, those words were written in and around my body, creating a sickness so complete entire generations were inflicted with unworthiness. Realizing, slowly, humbly, my story is sacred and valuable.

What do I want to write about?

Every story is worthy.

Every story has beauty.

I want to write about the Radiance!!

I want to write on your heart ~

You

are

loved

and

worthy

of

love.

Lasting Impression

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The carvings in a tree. The etching in rocks. Signs that someone was there. Someone who felt the need to leave a mark, to give a lasting impression, on a natural being. I lower my eyes, apologetically, for being part of a race that disrespects what nature offers.
When I enter the woods, oceans, mountains, I enter with silence. I want to hear and feel what the trees, wind, water, have to share with me. I am grateful for every step in wilderness I am allowed to take.
As a young person, I found refuge at the ocean. Sand between my toes, salt in my hair, was a welcome sign that I was were I needed to be. More recently, I am surrounded by mountains. The ridgelines, vistas, ravines, help me escape and remember the sacredness of life. I have been hiking in the mountains of Western North Carolina for eight years now. A few months ago, with snow still on the ground, I felt the mountains finally allow me to hear them. I lower my eyes, acknowledging that nature leaves no physical marks on me yet has the most profound impression.