Going Home
For these eight days away from home at home, mom has been whole. For me, anyway. I close my eyes and I see her through my front window. She’s weeding the walkway to my porch.
Life Swirls
Some mornings I stand on the edge of a steep knowing, a transformational space of understanding, embracing the brilliance that opens infinitely before me. Others, the land is flat beneath my feet, the same as it always was, closed off from the mystery beyond by a patch of trees, shadows, confusion. I’m fine and I’m falling apart. These are both true.
In the Weeds
Used Books
Life is a used book. We’re not the first to fall in love, we’re not the first to shatter on the rocks of heartbreak. We’re not the first to raise a child, to find a friend. to lose a loved one.
Pattern Interrupts: Oh, Ida
Open Letter to a Lost Friend: #SpreadLight
#WEP June Challenge
#twtstory
I’m here https://www.pennienichols.com/accidental-blogs/im-here/
Did you do anything out of the ordinary on Covid brain?
Dodging the bug had pretty much become a point of pride for me: I'm careful, but also, I think my blood type....
The Pandemic and Me
I don't say it out load often because the pandemic has been
https://www.pennienichols.com/accidental-blogs/covid-brain/
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