The outside smells like when we were talking. Musty grass. Spring giving into summer faster than most regions. The gardenia tree next door releasing its scent. Or maybe it’s the perfume I wore last year around this time. Warm and lingering on my neck, rose and blueberry and magnolia. In the watermelon dome, our skin… Continue reading The Watermelon Dome 🎧
Author: cc
registered financial advisor for thirteen years, nasm cpt for eight years. in love with nature & movement & dogs & seeing more.
Beth’s Son
Don’t tell my clients, but I have favorites. Scott, age 70, with his Southern-wilted voice and firebrand progressive opinions (a welcome rarity in our book of business), is one of them. He calls me dear, and oh how I love it. I know—I’m supposed to bristle at terms of endearment from older men, but I… Continue reading Beth’s Son
Ujjayi
dripping into triangle pose,with strong legs anda twisting core,my palm sliding downsore, soft shinsto reach the floor,and my eyes, which ought to be fixedon my opposite hand,are momentarily fixed on youand the way you like to watch.powder-pink carnationsin a cobalt-bluetranslucent pitcher.your unbuttoned,secondhand-ownedNaked & Famous shirt.the conversation you decide to startwhile I’m in the most difficult… Continue reading Ujjayi
Limbic Threat 🎧
I have a graphto show youlike where a stock iswhen it’s about tobreak out lowerthrough the support leveland I’m blinking at the screenlistening to my office neighboryell at someone on the phone,a glass of sparkling water,a pencil I just sharpened,a post-it on my monitorwith a mantra on it.I laugh at a joke I’ve heardtoo many… Continue reading Limbic Threat 🎧
Rapunzel
You were gold-spun hair and tiny limbs and big, expressive hazel eyes, and dare I say, gold-spun skin?! You had pixie dust in your bloodstream, and it wasn’t from all the handmade princess dresses in the perfectly curated closet your mother kept for you. It was just you. You were only three in these memories… Continue reading Rapunzel
Ernest
I see Ernest slowly make his way around the hospital floor. He is (I’m guessing) on his first lap, and it’s shaky. I’m not sure if it’s because it’s not even five a.m. or because his condition is worsening. When you stay in a hospital, time becomes something strange. For me, a visitor, it’s defined… Continue reading Ernest
Cenerentola
When I was very, very little, I have a memory of being very, very sick and being held by my mom, who is (by all definitions) the best mom in the entire world. She didn’t panic when you were hurt. She flew into calm, focused action. The type of mom who attacked you with kisses… Continue reading Cenerentola
Cherry + Espresso
I pick up Gigion the strip of road with no sidewalkand I unintentionally strut,wearing the short-shorts I slept inand a shirt that the breeze blows through,my chin forward and my shoulders back.I carry her snugin between my ribs and my hip.I can feel her back legsdangling behind meand I suppress a laughthat ends up as… Continue reading Cherry + Espresso
a Bee in the Sand 🎧
Collecting moments from a snippet or a slow scene, as if they were rocks I could turn over in my hand and spot their individuality the way the light catches on one or the coarse texture of another. I want to look at them all at once and line them up, just to say: This?… Continue reading a Bee in the Sand 🎧
The Benefits of Turmeric
The first night we fell asleep together, I said, “Holy shit. We fit.” Because we do. I’d been in the arms of someone else before you. It wasn’t the same— not as perfect, not as dizzying, not as safe. Or as unnervingly addictive. I watch you talk to people, your whole body leaned into them.… Continue reading The Benefits of Turmeric
Muovi il culo, è Pasqua
I love the way we sort of free falldown the stairs in the morningsfor our walk.But especiallyon holiday mornings.I think about someone my ageawake to watch their childrenexperience the plastic sensationsof their Easter basketwhile they sip a coffee.But for me, it’s different—and this isn’t to say one version isbetter or worse.I love the stillnessthe normally… Continue reading Muovi il culo, è Pasqua
A sparkling powder in a puff
when I was nine,I wrote a pleading letter to my sister who at seventeen, maybe eighteen,had left our familyto live with her birth father. I didn’t know what I was feelingwas abandonment. I wanted to be her.But like an elder sibling sometimes is,she moved through the worldwith a kind of flickerelusive,hard to predict,often difficult to… Continue reading A sparkling powder in a puff
my Alchemai Queen 🎧
When I drive to see my therapist, I’m always nervous. I arrive early and I park under a shady tree. If I happen to be in a phase where I’m listening to a playlist, I’ll let a song play until the end and rest against the round circle headrest in my Fiat and sigh and… Continue reading my Alchemai Queen 🎧
Throw a punch (II) 🎧
I text Sam: “Boxing class = done.” She replies with a prompt, “WOO!!!” Then, “How was it?”—followed by an image of a tarot card pulled for a Libra (my sun sign): The Four of Wands. Beneath it: “There’s something worth celebrating right now, whether you realize it or not. So bring everyone together in the… Continue reading Throw a punch (II) 🎧
Throw a punch (I)
I shall be fighting a heavy bag in precisely one hour. It only took me nine days to follow through. It will be the first time wrapping my hands and putting on boxing gloves. Not the first time throwing a punch. And definitely not the first time visualizing how good I imagine it feels wearing… Continue reading Throw a punch (I)
oh, woe is me 🎵
Can I be vulnerable for a sec? Oh, I’m already vulnerable? Thank you for reading me, whoever you are. Even if you just skim a paragraph, or roll your eyes at a sentence. Thank you for any moment where you exhale and think, “That was good,” or “That was funny,” or if there was even… Continue reading oh, woe is me 🎵
I did it for the sloth 🎧
Why add audios? I could say it’s for accessibility purposes, but I read a comment in a blogging community that basically said they already have software for screen reading. I suppose I just like the act of reading my words. Making them feel less serious or heavy. I think back on my third grade self.… Continue reading I did it for the sloth 🎧
Drafts
These are some drafts that I rarely revisit or tweak. They all felt complete. đź“ť ONE Six years ago, me and three of my girlfriends did yoga on my deck. We each set up our phones at the top of our mats and pressed play. It was the final class from a thirty-day challenge I… Continue reading Drafts
Tagging my dreams 🎧
I couldn’t find my silky sleep mask and was too tired to look for it, so guess who had trouble sleeping? When I finally fell asleep I was treated to unsettling dreams. I’ve noticed this recurring dream pattern for me, where I’m responsible for my niece. I used to regularly dream of a towering wave.… Continue reading Tagging my dreams 🎧
The Little Drop 🎧
In savasana, I am the worst. At a recent yin yoga session, as we rolled up our mats and put away blocks and blankets, our instructor said, “Much better. I can feel the vibration in here is less chaotic.” My main character energy (flaw) assumed I was the chaos. I was certainly feeeeeling it before… Continue reading The Little Drop 🎧
Boxing 🎧
Back in December, I signed up for a boxing class but had to cancel due to a lower back situation. I kept wondering when I’d sign up again. The owners were super engaging—not in a pushy way. But January had me tending to core work. I dedicated a lot of time to high planks (favorite),… Continue reading Boxing 🎧
Summer Baby
It’s too cold for late March in Tampa. I want to be hot. Not in a climate change kinda way (zero waste / vegan, please). I want my skin exposed to warmth wrapping around me. I want the privilege of knowing that whatever space I put myself in can be cooled when I feel like… Continue reading Summer Baby
Gertrude 🎧
I’m procrastinating. I have about four hours (or more, depending on my focus level) of homework that I could have spaced out between today and yesterday, but instead, I spent yesterday lying in the sunshine, doing laundry, and fake-reluctantly agreeing to a delivery from our favorite vegan restaurant in Tampa. This is supposedly my nineteenth… Continue reading Gertrude 🎧
Rituals
The end of our walk starts with my daily encouragement to hurry Gigi home by telling her she’s going to get second breakfast. This doesn’t really help at all (she still stops and sticks her face in every damn thing), nor does it discourage her from barking at the passing cars or bike riders on… Continue reading Rituals