All posts in Sunday Prayers & Secrets

Sunday Prayer

gorgeousnessDear Mister Ruler of All That’s High and Mighty,

Listen, I know you’re as busy as Donald Trump’s hairstylists, but if you could carve out some time in your schedule, could you make it a point to remind me of the gorgeousness of life. Like that time I thought I would melt in the rain when we were camping, but I didn’t. Or that time I cooked a four course chef-worthy meal for my family that turned out just so. Or that time I looked up at the ceiling at the theater and gasped a breath of beauty simply because of the colors. In all honesty, it’s endless, the places I find and interact with beauty. The way my husband finds the perfect in-between hotel to stay at on our way to a big adventure. Those few moments, after I wrangle myself awake and I have the thought “It’s all very good”. The interactions I have with strangers on the street, in the grocery store, while I’m walking the dogs—how I feel deep down that I’d like to know these people. Please make it a point to allow me to open myself up enough to all of this revelrie that happens consistently and gloriously and that I find my way in my little world with elegant grace until my last dying day, okay amen you may be seated.

Yours In the Definition of Hope,
Penelope Positive

Sunday Secret

overcastWhenever the fog rolls in at the beach I say hello. Hello to its ability to turn the sky from blue to white in seconds. Hello to its beautiful thickness and determination. Hello to the way it drapes a blanket of stillness and quiet across the city with, seemingly, no effort at all in what feels like minutes.

I welcome the stillness and the quiet. It reminds me of the way my mood shifts and waivers. The way I am bright, bright, brightest in one moment and then how I slip into darkness without warning, without much hullabaloo. I just do it. I drift in and out of myself like the denseness of the crowded air that accosts the place where I live, leaving the junipers frozen.

If you ask me, there is no formula for navigating emotions. There is only the large, awesome realization that everything is wild before it changes in a second.

Yours In Unyielding Mist,
Felicia Foghorn

Sunday Secret

emotionsFrom one moment to the next, I’m hurled from absolute joy to abject poverty mind. It happens so quickly that I consider buying myself a helmet. The sky is limitless, yet in my constricted monkey mind, all I can see is an inch ahead of me. An inkling of knowledge. A smidgeon of faith. Still, I keep moving forward, with the hope of wisdom on my side and I open my arms to forthrightness and I throw myself toward truth and I wait, with a certain excited anticipation, for the moment when I might see the whole thing dripping in truth.

Yours In Constant Attempting,
Sally So What

Sunday Secret

ToTheMoonThere’s something about telling my own narrative that feels so comforting. The way I stammer and wander, trying to find my way toward goodness. The way I fear for anything bad happening to the ones I love the most. How I would tell my mother I loved her to the moon and back. My struggle with anxiety and how that somehow makes me more tolerant of others. That time I threw my body across my dying father. What a struggle it is to get through the day, sometimes. The sweet, unbridled joy I feel when I settle in to the moment I’m experiencing. How hard it is for me to let go. How easy it is for me to keep a secret tally. All of this. All of this and so much more. There’s the wishing and the hoping and the dreading and the fearing—all part of my kaleidoscope narrative. All part of the details of the journey of my life. All part of the swift movement of who I feel I’m meant to be—who I feel I’m meant to document in the open space that I call you.

Yours In Endless Introspection,
Sally So On and So Forth

Sunday Secret

forlornFar from forlorn, I wade my way across an ocean that contains fragments of the past, present and future. I dwell on the past, when my broken heart gets the best of me and just as I’m about to go under, I rise to the surface—focused and real—ready for the moment and gunning for what’s to come.

But the tide always changes my course and when I look toward the future, the undertow tends to bend my body in such a way that I lose my compass course. I am swimming forward. That’s all I know. And each wave that crashes over my spirit leads me every which way and I feel happy for the adventure and I feel grateful for the ride.

Sheila Surfer