These Words My Lifeline


I want words that aren’t the “doing” kind.
Not the phrases that disorient you with some shiny distant maybe thing when underneath and right here and right now I’m dull and tarnished and wanting you to see.
“It will work out”, “I’m really very lucky”, and “l’ll keep you posted”, I said
How automatically I placated and hid, how easily you got distracted
and how lonely I felt when you took my bait and smiled.
I pulled deeper into myself then, obscured by my scarf and those awful reassurances that felt like saboteurs slinking out of my mouth.

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I Become Real When You Believe Me: Why Believing Survivors Matters


The hashtag for much of the activism around the nomination of Brett Kavanaugh to the Supreme Court is, #BelieveSurvivors. I have been reflecting deeply on what that means. In light of the response by many to discredit people -not just women but all genders – who come forward with stories of sexual assault, I wanted to share my perspective on why believing survivors is a radical act of service, support and healing.

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Surrender in the Least Likely Place

In the past few days, I had the opportunity to experience my body in the throes of food poisoning (Note: do NOT read on if you cannot stomach stomach stories).

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Praising God While Having Sex: Faith From The Bedroom

“I’m finding new ways to praise God while I’m having sex with my husband.”
– Tiarra, married 3 years

This statement stopped me in my tracks last Friday.

As the snow cascaded down in Dallas, I listened to my new, vivacious friend Tiarra talk about her passionate conviction that her love making and her love of God are deeply intertwined.

And I realized how much I feel the same. And how I imagine most people wouldn’t realize what a strong, spiritual background I come from. Continue reading…

How My Pussy Prepared Me To March

It wasn’t that I hadn’t seen pussy before.

To the contrary, having dated women throughout graduate school, I was definitely more familiar than most with being close to another woman’s body. So it couldn’t have been just the mere fact of pussy that made that spring morning in Austin in 2012 so impactful.

Looking back, I think the reason it shook me down to my bones to see her pussy that day was that I had never really seen a pussy for the sake of just seeing a pussy.

For the sheer purpose of being present with another woman’s sexual body.

But, really, no one does this.

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My First Vipasssana Retreat and Why You Should Never Do This

woman-meditating-into-herselfInitially the proposition seemed appealing. Attend a 10-day silent meditation retreat at the end of a tumultuous summer with five of my closest friends. Living in Dallas, we live less than an hour away from The Southwest Vipassana Meditation Center in Kaufman, Texas, a modest cluster of buildings on 34 acres of agricultural land that draws would-be meditators from across the country. For the last two years I have witnessed community members who have come back from the course and raved of the benefits. It seemed like it was finally my turn.

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It’s Time to Put My Gun Down


hanging on letting goALLOWABLES

By Nikki Giovanni

I killed a spider

Not a murderous brown recluse

Nor even a black widow

And if the truth were told this

Was only a small

Sort of papery spider

Who should have run

When I picked up the book

But she didn’t

And she scared me

And I smashed her


I don’t think

I’m allowed

To kill something

Because I am



When the news broke about the recent shootings in Dallas last Thursday, my heart froze. I found out when my friend Saul messaged me on Facebook.

“Turn on the news”, he wrote. “There have been attacks”.

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We Gather In A Circle: A Meditation on Leadership

Ever since grade school I have gravitated to leadership. Yep, I was that kid. The one who always got A’s, was quietly liked by most and ran for and got elected to Student Council President and Class President in the spaint handsame year. I was 12. I still hadn’t menstruated. I wore big, horn-rimmed glasses and my hair was usually frizzy.

Being a leader began for me by watching my parents, especially my mother. During my years in Catholic grade school, Mom served as the head of our Brownie troop, the founder of our community prayer group, Founder and Editor of a newsletter on parenting and Director of the Adolescent Treatment Program at our family’s non-profit substance abuse treatment center in Richardson. It seemed to me that my mom could handle anything. I always saw her as a Superwoman. Continue reading…

Orgasmic Meditation & Grief

This post was originally written on May 29, 2015.

I’d like to share something here about my grief process of late. Sunday, a very close friend of mine died in a car accident. No warning, nothing in her life indicated the end was near. A car hit her and she was gone.OM & grief

You might think that Orgasmic Meditation – or OM for short – and grief have nothing to do with one another. But that’s not my experience.

When I read the news by text Monday afternoon, I immediately threw my phone down and crumpled to the floor. The news hit me, the way news like this hits. Like a stinging electric shock. Like my vision blurring. Like my skin prickling. As if it was coming unglued from my body.

But something marvelous followed.

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You Mean You Wish To Surrender to Me?

My favorite line from The Princess Bride, my favorite childhood movie, begins like this.

“Surrender!” commands Prince Humperdink, as he and his henchmen surround a battered Westley and Buttercup as they limp out of the woods of the infamous Fire Swamp. With a poise that makes this scene immanently endearing, the bleeding, ragged Westley quips to the opponents who outnumber him, “You mean you wish to surrender to me? Very well, I accept”.

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