An Open Letter to My Planner
Dear planner, I know our defalt. Scribbled-full pages. Hour-by-hour appointments and obligations. A quick spot for a friend here, time for a sandwiched-in conversation there. I...
Author: Maria Mullet
Feeding the Mind
It took me days to pack my bags. I weighed and re-weighed each suitcase, shuffling the heavy things, narrowing down what could actually make the final cut. I took...
Starry Eyes and Grape-less Vines
For two years I had looked forward to The Week. The Week was when every member of my immediate family was going to be together under...
How Priests and Pitchforks are Helping Me Return
A few years ago, I lived in a sweet little cottage in rural America. Every spring, I’d spend hours cleaning up the yard and flower beds. One of the...
From Noun to Verb
The Duty Free shop at Don Muang Airport will always carry a memory for me. We were walking past it, down toward gate 72 where our...
It’s All Beyond Me
Last week I was in front of a fan, sipping boba and planning for the next Zoom class I’d teach. Today I’m huddled under a blanket next to a...
I’ll Take Your Shoulders
Around Thanksgiving, I signed up to run a race in late January. Since I’ve abandoned the life of a solo runner (see that story here), I invited my friends...
Eeyore, Dungeons, and Always Rejoicing
A few years ago, Andrew Peterson released a song titled “Rejoice” and I didn’t like it. This is odd for a few reasons. Reason one:...
Under the Earth and By the Sea {The Grove: Thy Word}
I was standing in cave, somewhere deep under the midwestern US. Darkness so thick I could almost taste it. A hand an inch in front of my face would...
What the Halflings Knew All Along
Last year, I traveled to see friends for Christmas. The cool thing is, my travels cost me nary a penny. My boarding pass was a...
