THE GIRL IN
THE GREEN HAMMOCK

I had just about had it, taking care of everyone and everything else— and felt this close  to one of my Exorcist moments.  As scary as they are, I’m sure I must not be alone in having them.   You know—you just snap.  Suddenly your head starts spinning in 360-degree warp speed circles, and people start looking at you all crazy—with big round eyes.   And it’s always the teensiest, tiniest things that trigger it.  In this case, it was the cake. The last piece.  The last piece, a

I didn't know I was forgetting- until a green hammock reminded me. This reflection traces longing, compromise, and the quiet return to self. I no longer need a red hammock, or someone else's adventure. I do need trees, rivers, stars, and the quiet magic of home life. And I need the version of me who knows how to be still ~ I've always loved the quiet magic of homelife- the sanctuary of ordinary. But sometimes that doesn't feel like enough. Sometimes, I need my jaw to drop.