and the perfectly imperfect paper cranes

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photo by author

The Project that Stalled

The last few months have been slow. The project that I had been working on came to a halt, and with the standstill, my energy dropped as well.

It gave me purpose. It inspired me. It energized me. I relished in the teamwork and loved how it felt to be working closely with someone that shared similar interests and values. Creating and finally doing something that felt right. Being a part of it kept my thoughts busy and I don’t remember the last time I felt that positive.

I don’t do well when I am floating without purpose. Unfortunately, I…


Escaped from my lips

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author

Words whispered into my ear took over all thought
and only one thing existed in that shining second.

. . . . .Remember that?

Remember the sigh you gave me?

How it seeped slowly from my throat
and escaped through my lips in slow motion
and reverberated through the air like an echo,
floating onward and upward…

It would have been caught in the net of a cloud:
filtered… and released
in kaleidoscope-like patterns that
could only be contained by
One Thousand times One Thousand
rain drops.

Rain drops that go on to land upon the land — where their…


A Dear Diary Moment

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Photo by Catalin Pop on Unsplash

Looking back, it was inevitable. I tried to avoid it, to drown it out with work and school and the kids when they were little. I tried to circumvent it through pure will-power, effort, and force. I was not a statistic, a victim, or weak. I insisted that I was above average and quite “aware” — just a little stuck.

But what a Hero Journey that makes… What a peak, crescendo, zenith, a climax. Since my story couldn’t get much lower, any move would have me come out on top in comparison. I was a shoo-in. A sure winner. …


You waltzed into my life in the oddest of ways

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Photo by Daniel Andrade on Unsplash

*****10/10, would recommend: A testimonial — Volume 1.

We can’t always know what brings people together. I think it is usually something small and seemingly insignificant, forgettable, or mundane. One of those life moments where it is only in retrospect that we are able to see the importance. Similar to the butterfly effect in chaos theory, something happens and our trajectories are set: parallel paths become perpendicular. Whatever it was, something hit our proverbial cue balls and created a pivot point.

I remember the exact moment, but that detail doesn’t matter right now. I was on the doorstep of change…


random rainy morning thoughts

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Photo by Kevin Jarrett on Unsplash

What are you here for? What can you do with this winning lottery ticket called LIFE? You have a one-way trip. Just this one. Make it count. Make it matter. Make it mean something. Be a force to be reckoned with. Listen to that fire inside… that burning desire that smolders at your core and aches to give more, to do more.

Walk the world with your eyes wide open. Take it all in. Notice the way the scent of the air is different during sunrise and sunset. Count the rings on tree stumps and watch cloud formations float on…


Memoirs of a Mama Bear

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Photo by Herbert Goetsch on Unsplash

Brilliance. Staring into flashes of memory. My kids when they were little. My son as a baby, how warm his round head would get when he was sleeping. My daughter not even five, and obsessed with black and white scary movies. The excitement of picking Halloween costumes, and their small faces seeing Christmas presents under the tree. Them peering over my shoulder as I did homework, asking when I would finish and come play. Knock-knock jokes, peanut-butter-and-jelly, velcro light-up shoes. Summer nights with roasted marshmallows and lightning bugs, movies, and popcorn. So many bags of popcorn.

The snowsuits and skinned…


A Just-Get-to-the-Point Metaphor

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Photo by Casey Horner on Unsplash

The night feels darker when lost deep in the forest. Cradled under treetops and cloaked from the light of the sky, everything looks different. Once-familiar paths shift unexpectedly and snake-like, veering off at odd angles. The dark is dramatic, altering every little bit of light and making shadows reach towards us from around corners.

With our flashlights, we illuminate narrow hallways between the trees ahead. Regardless of how bright, nothing is ever clear. North looks the same as south, and east the same as west. …

Rai Marie Hughes

Wanna be wanderer, worshiper of words, writer of rough drafts. Maker of mistakes and strong coffee. Reading you — it’s what I do.

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