little sarah Big World

Month: September, 2013



“I Am That”


“I Am That Which Repeleth”

I wanted to giggle, we were standing so close

On the train, I sit one seat over from an old man, though I suspect he will likely have that Japanese death-breath that’s become so inescapably familiar as I commute across the island via a series of confined spaces. All sallow skin loosely arranged around a skeletal stance, this one, and I purposefully choose to sit nearer.

I’m trying to expand my sense of self, while simultaneously dismantling my ego. Trying not to see others as separate and different from myself, something foreign. Entertaining the idea that we could be infinite reflections of the same connected consciousness, variations on a theme. So that “other” is not removed from me. It is me. And I am that.

Read the rest of this entry »



On the way to work, cutting through the park as always, I saw two of the 5th graders looking for something in the grass. One of them I recognized as my own–facebook-obsessed, very social, very silly. I figured they were looking for a lost earring or bracelet. Nevertheless, it seemed an idyllic little image, a nice snapshot of my workday. I snuck a photo and didn’t get caught.

In class, their teacher used Sharing Time to briefly acknowledge today, September 11th, asking what that means to them. I did a mental double take, then did the math to confirm, when he pointed out that it was 12 years ago, before any of them were born. It doesn’t seem that long ago, to me. They don’t seem young enough to not know.

Read the rest of this entry »

Visionary Blues


“Old Habits Die Hard, But Beautifully”

Vision Board

I made a vision board today, something I’ve been putting off for months. See, I brought with me all these personal paper trinkets from home–photos and poems and horoscopes (oh my!)–with the intention of creating something beautiful and inspiring, a third sweet sister to my Anti-Homesickness Mural in Spain and my Anti-Anxiety Mural in Salt Lake. I thought I would be productive, creative, prolific. That I would wake up and seize the day.

I had a lot of good intentions, Friends.

Read the rest of this entry »

Learning to Live With the Mess


There are times in my life when I am happy. Content. Okay with the natural ebb and flow of things and the inherent flotsam and jetsam. I find beauty in it, even, in apple cores and a sticky knife resting lazily on the kitchen counter…in laundry hanging to dry in the window, or draped over a chair…the mundane messiness of life glides by me, as I swim strongly towards bigger and bolder goals.

Other times…I am consumed by the details, enervated by the ephemera, unhinged by an unmade bed or pile of clothes on the floor or (let’s be honest) Chad’s side of the closet.

But, also, I’m bothered by the feeling that the loose ends won’t ever come together. That perfection will always be out of my reach, and I see the mess around me as a reflection of my inner failings and turmoil, my inability to get. it. together.

(“You’re 27 now,” I tell myself, as though there is any other timeline for figuring things out than as you’re able).

But I want to let go. I WANT TO LET GO!!! I want to shout it, and not care if I’m too loud, not care if I eat cereal for dinner, not worry about my long-suffering thighs, not avoid doing things (like writing, or blogging, or organizing my workspace) because I’m intimidated by my own standard of cold, hard perfection. To the point of paralysis.

No more, I say! Good day to you, sir! I’m off to eat sushi, having accomplished a fair amount of things, knowing that there’s more to do later, and tomorrow, and the next day, and that I’ll do it just like that. One step at a time.

As I’m able.

A Bird in the Hand

Little Lady Biddy Birds

Some days I think the world is an okay place. Humans are good. The universe is kind and giving (or forgiving).

Most days I don’t.

But some days I do.