Life is not a straight line. It's a downpour of gifts, please – hold out your hand

Thank you for being here. I'm so glad you're here.

Tuesday, September 19, 2017

Breathing My Way Back

I am in the kitchen
peeling sweet potatoes, chopping
the onions she grew from her own 
rich soil, gently holding one avocado
after another until I find the one
that is the perfect age
of ripe. 
Hands are busy peeling
and chopping, while mind
skips wildly from one terror
to another — cars and houses drowning
in water, forests on fire, monster
winds that rip roofs off hearts
and homes. People running
from war
to more war.
Fingers painted in soft green
avocado now, feet stand
on the hickory floor, mind 
and trying
to outrun
the fires,
the floods
of too much.
I remember —
to return. To breathe
my way back
to where the body
I remember that instead of scrolling
and chasing and running, I can
roll out the yoga mat, I can
bow to every tree
that has ever stood. I can
feed myself so I can be
one of the ones who helps
rather than hurts.
For now, though, I am still here
in the kitchen, peeling
sweet potatoes, chopping
onions, making a meal
so my family and I
can sit gratefully
around the table
and eat.

©Julia Fehrenbacher
Image found on Google images


  1. Missed you so, Julia, wonderful to read this, thank you

  2. Garrett, you are such a treasure. What a treat it is to see your here!


What are you thinking/feeling? I'd really love to know...

♥ Julia