Writing

You need to make your bones.

You need to make your bones.

I’ve learned to do the most important things in the morning: write, sweat, journal, meditate because it’s when I’m most clean and clear and sharp, by far. If I wait, the chances of those things happening falls drastically. And if those things don’t happen, my mind and life fall off track astonishingly fast. It’s practical. And practical every day equals profound. This is how you make your bones.

Social Media Sobriety and Doing The Deeper Work

Social Media Sobriety and Doing The Deeper Work

I don’t like what’s happening with women online right now, particularly in recovery, spiritual, and so-called feminist circles. It appears there is a growing contingent of people who I would assert even six months ago had no awareness of the word privilege, and now feel compelled to call out other women on theirs at every turn.

The 11 Best Addiction and Sobriety Books

The 11 Best Addiction and Sobriety Books

There are few things I love more than a book list, so here’s one that’s near and dear to my heart. A mix of memoirs, self-help, and psychological/scientific study, these are my favorite books about addiction and sobriety.

The Pain of Too Much Tenderness

The Pain of Too Much Tenderness

This kaleidoscope of things. Sometimes all the pieces come into focus in a way that’s so beautiful it hurts—like the plastic bag at the end of American Beauty. The ordinariness of life. The bigness of it, too. When it comes into focus, everything is clear and felt at once.

On Staying Sober in Mad Men, Quitting Your Job, and Living Life on Roller Skates

On Staying Sober in Mad Men, Quitting Your Job, and Living Life on Roller Skates

Eventually, my perspective totally changed. I didn't see the Mad Men like environment of advertising the way I used to: wild, rich , and exciting. I instead saw it as flat, shallow, and a hustle I didn't want to do anymore.

Belief Is A Practice

Belief Is A Practice

Hope is at first, I think, childish. In the best way, of course. We have faith and hope because life is still so new. Our brains haven't been written over with ink so many times they are unclear. Every moment is fresh; there is still magic in the smallest things: a cookie, swimming, flowers, Christmas Eve.

Give Up

Give Up

Two years ago today, I gave up. I looked down at my swollen toes pinched into my black patent leather shoes—shoes I wore only because they looked and felt better, more grown up, than I did that day—and I stopped promising myself I would never drink again.

Seasons

Seasons

All around me, I can see the unmistakable beauty in all the seasons that have passed, especially the really difficult ones. I can honor the one I am in. This is the season of my adult aloneness. The season of writing my first book. The season of goddess friendships and living in my body. The season of mothering and becoming an aunt. The season of my 39th year.